Of Sin and Sacrifice
by mgssnake
Summary: Six years following the fall of the false Savior, Fortuna begins to rebuild and life continues until a new evil arises flinging Dante and Nero into a quest where a sin can become the greatest of sacrifices. Slight KyriexNero, mainly DantexNero
1. Mission 1: The Forging of an Alliance

_CRASH! _A massive shockwave rattled the ground as a mighty marble statue impacted the shattered streets of a small town square. The statue itself, in its glory days, was an idol of much sought after praise and worship from the small town's citizens. Many thought the statue as nothing more than an inanimate creation of an artist's hands. However, with the aid of powerful magic, the object had obtained vitality and was thus granted mobility. The statue's hooded eyes pulsated a pale crimson as it glared down upon a sole warrior clad in a red, flowing coat. With godly speed, the gigantic statue hurled another massive fist at the man, its possessor praying that he would finally be eradicated.

"Heh heh, is that all you got?" the man in the crimson coat questioned stoically as he gracefully leapt onto the statue's massive fist.

Emotionlessly, the crafted deity flung its hand into the air, sending the warrior high into the atmosphere. The man in the flowing overcoat sighed in disappointment as he quickly slipped into a form of combat armor. The cold steel gauntlets, facemask, boots and wings pulsated several shades of vibrant colors with every move its owner made. Curling his body into a tight ball, the man in red absorbed energy from the surrounding atmosphere as well as the sunlight before redirecting it into a downward thrust. Unleashing a valiant battle cry, the pulsating armor emitted a vibrant stream of light energy, which swirled around its master.

Glancing heavenward, the statue barely managed to focus on the ball of energy flying toward it before its crafted jaw line was severely cracked from the impact of the assault. The man in red dexterously balanced his weight in the newly crafted grooves and edges in the statue's face as the attack's momentum caused the object to tumble onto the scarred plaza. Taking advantage of the momentary opening, the armor-clad man unleashed a barrage of punches and kicks, each one stronger than the last. However, the cease-fire hadn't lasted long and before he knew it, his prey was already rising to its battered and chipped feet. Leaping to a safe spot for the moment, the man in red switched back to a long and mighty sword, which was decorated with a demon skeleton on its hilt.

"Ha, you know, you're not very graceful for a god," the man joked as a coy smirk pulled at the right corner of his lips.

Wracked by the snide comment, the deity statue pulled its right fist back for another attack. This battle had been raging for hours now and neither combatant was showing signs of tiring. However, unlike the statue, the man in red was practically unscathed from the other's attacks. The deity statue had numerous chips, cracks, slashes and missing chunks from its once immaculate body and features. The blue gems that littered its body were cracked, chipped and in some places completely fragmented. A few of the wings that seemed to cover the statue's massive body were missing or broken, and the golden horns were also partaking in the same fate.

The man clad in red sighed heavily as the cracked gem on the statue's torso attracted his attention. Clutching a long katana in his right hand, he began to clench his jaw, wracking his brain for an answer to the problem of cracking open that rather thick gem. Dodging the statue's second attempt at pounding him into the building he was standing atop, a thought soon formulated, causing a wolfish grin to claim his lips. Crouching onto the spire he landed upon following the attack, he gracefully leapt toward the statue, his inhuman strength granting him a periodic flight. Utilizing the warrior's momentary vulnerability, a new wave of enchanted angelic armor suits soared after him, their jousts raised and poised to strike.

The man in red frowned slightly at the barrage of armor angels before altering his body's position in order to utilize the angels' positions to his advantage. One after the other, he used the enchanted armor as stepping-stones, thus gaining him height and disrupting their attack pattern. Upon reaching his target, he quickly unsheathed the katana and struck the partially shattered gem with the blade. After the blade's initial penetration, it generously sunk into a deep crack that had formed from the statue's various movements. Regaining his footing, the warrior began to thrust against the sword, managing to slice through to the blade's hilt. A distinct tremor in the statue's solid exterior, however warned him of an impending attack. Halting his progress, he quickly glanced up watching as the deity prepared to slam its right hand against his body.

"Even Yamato is no match for the power of the Savior!" the statue's possessor roared as a massive marble hand came into view.

Abandoning the sword in order to prevent his own death, the man in the crimson overcoat quickly pushed off of the statue, just barely missing the swipe of the deity's hand. He growled low in his throat before pulling out twin handguns from their respective holsters attached to his belt. Crossing the weapons in front of him, he squinted his eyes, aiming.

"If the exterior is solid…" he began before firing off eight consecutive rounds.

With precision far surpassing any machine, the fired bullets collided end to end on the katana's handle, thus granting it the extra push it needed in order to penetrate the gem. As the blade sailed cleanly into the statue's hollow torso, it soon struck a soft mass of tissue, slicing through up to its hilt. Meanwhile outside, the man in red soared serenely over a few decimated houses before landing gracefully onto a flattened spire, smirking as the statue's body began to quiver.

"…then you have to take it out from the inside!" he finished stoically.

The impact of the previous attacks caused the statue to reel back before crashing forward, its glowing broken halo just missing the still smirking man. Sighing lightly, the warrior spun his twin handguns around his trigger fingers before holstering them. The statue's possessor grumbled as the marble deity lifted its head to stare at its momentary successor.

"No! What have you done?" the panicked voice questioned.

"Time to wake up kid!" the man in red shouted toward the fractured gem. "You're missing out on all the fun!"

Following his comment, a brief moment of silence passed over the battle-scarred plaza that was bathed in the rich reds, yellows, oranges, and whites of the distant setting sun. Concern momentarily befell the warrior before he cried out again.

"Nero!"

Meanwhile, inside the central core of the deity, the massive chunk of tissue the katana struck began to pulsate before a glowing demonic arm sliced through the mass. The still-consumed owner of the demonic arm curled its glowing fingers in the stale air before latching onto the blade's handle. The tight mass of flesh valiantly resisted against the new development, however in the end, the demonic arm's owner sliced through a small slit in the mass creating an opening to freedom. Gasping shallowly, the deity's bodily captive toppled limply from the suspended organic cell, colliding mercilessly onto the hollow space's ground afterward.

Finally free, the summoned man absorbed precious moments to catch his breath and regain his stamina. Groaning softly, he curled his fingers before slowly pushing his body upright, the pulsating katana blade still clutched tightly in his right hand. Slowly opening his eyes, the man with the demonic arm glanced at the blade before observing his surroundings.

"It's all you from here kid!" a familiar voice called, echoing in the hollow chamber. "A chance to save the world doesn't happen everyday you know? Savor it!"

The voice of a comrade caused a small smile to pull at the man's lips. Clutching the katana, he momentarily utilized the blade in order to stand onto his feet. The fact that he wasn't alone in this battle reignited his faith and hope.

"This I will savor," he whispered as he glanced down toward a resilient light. "Let's clean up this mess!"

…

The waning hours of twilight brought with it cooler temperatures and longer shadows. The man in red grunted as he absorbed the shock of another assault from the statue, his sword acting as his shield. However, even though the deity was beginning to weaken, the force of the attack barely affected him at all. Reopening his eyes, he then noticed that the statue had ceased to move altogether. Relieved, he released a held breath, relaxing his tensed muscles.

"It's over," he commented before pushing the statue off to the side.

Sheathing his sword, he stared up at the fractured remains of the statue's head, a cracked gem glistening in the early evening's sunlight. Anticipation soon began to wash over his figurative being as he waited for something to happen.

"_Come on kid…_" he whispered as he continued to stare at the gem.

Moments of suffocating silence passed before he noticed a shadow slide across the convex surface of the blue object. The shadow was the warrior's cue to release his held breath as two forms burst through the fractured object shortly afterward. A smile claimed the man's features as a familiar face came into view. The man with the demonic arm slowly stood after his graceful landing as shards of the gem rained down upon him. Upon his back, two swords were crossed: one a massive pendulum-like blade, and the other, the man's own sword. Glancing toward the destroyed plaza, his crystal blue gaze intercepted the figure of his comrade. He then quickly paced toward the plaza, a young woman held protectively in his arms.

"Took your time," the warrior in red jested as the other carefully placed the woman down onto her feet.

"What are you expecting an apology?" the other retorted, glaring at his compatriot.

"Well how long am I going to have to wait for it?" he questioned crossing his arms.

The visibly younger man dressed in a blue overcoat glared at the older man with the intent of firing off a witty comeback before a loud crash rattled the ground once more. Glancing toward the ruined circle of buildings, the three survivors gaped in horror as the statue rose again. However unlike last time, this time the statue's face had been replaced with that of its possessor, the twisted man's features distorted in a fit of rage.

"Heh, this guy just doesn't let it go," the man in red retorted as he retrieved his twin handguns from their holsters.

Pulling the massive pendulum blade off of his back, the man in blue stepped forward, halting his comrade with the weapon.

"This is where it began," he stoically replied, glaring up at the abomination. "And this is where it will end, by my hand."

The warrior decorated in red smirked before a soft chuckle vibrated his vocal chords. Shaking his head slightly, he holstered his twin handguns before extending his left arm toward the somewhat offered sword, wrapping his strong, gloved fingers around its hilt afterward.

"Alright then, go finish it kid," he informed his partner who turned to gaze at the rescued woman dressed in a long white gown.

"Wait for me," the younger man whispered before turning to face the writhing statue.

A deep sigh passed over his lips as he confidently paced toward the false savior, his demonic arm pulsating a bright blue hue as he drew closer.

"You know God, I always hated that you made my arm like this," the man in blue noted as he curled both of his hands into fists. "But now with it, I can destroy this thing. Who would've thought!"

The warrior in red smirked before crossing his arms over his chest as he and the rescued woman watched in anticipation as the young man leapt toward the roaring statue. Unleashing a demonic roar of his own, the warrior in blue thrust his right hand out toward the statue's face, clamping five glowing blue claws around it.

"Now I know," he shouted as his hand twitched from the clenching tendons in his fingers as he steadied the monstrosity. "This hand was made for sending guys like you back to hell!"

Clenching his teeth, he began to slowly constrict his grasp, thus digging his clawed fingers into the solid marble surface of the statue's broken head. Slowly, small cracks began to snake their way around the object as pressure from the grip of the demonic hand spiked.

"And now…you…die!" he screamed as he clenched his fist tightly, successfully shattering the statue's facial features.

With its face completely obliterated, and its host slayed by Yamato, the towering false savior was finally brought to its knees. What little remained of the masterpiece fell back onto the fractured remains of the town's plaza, uplifting a veil of dirt and dust in its wake. Panting from the exertion, the young warrior fell to his knees. A genuine smile creased his lips as he glanced back up to where the statue had originally towered, relieved at only finding a pale purple, cloud-less sky in its place.

"It's over," he whispered to himself as he stood back onto his feet. "It's finally over."

"Heh, not bad at all kid," the elder warrior whispered to himself before nodding at the young man.

Turning back to face the remains of the town's center, he sighed heavily before glancing over the horizon to stare at the melting colors of yellow, red, orange and blue. The serene beauty of the story of Fortuna's false savior was slowly drawing to a close as the last of the sun's rays began to slowly sink beneath the vanishing point. As he continued to gaze out over the horizon, he began to ponder why he exactly took this job in the first place. His assigners didn't exactly specify that he would get paid, and he didn't exactly like charity work. Shaking his head to clear his mind of these questions, he lifted his right hand, rubbing the pads of his fingers gently over the thin folds of skin that protected his eyes. A soft groan vibrated his throat as he lightly pinched the bridge of his nose, long awaited fatigue finally setting in. His thoughts were soon interrupted when short splashes followed by the clomping of rubber soles against cobblestone caused his ears to twitch slightly to adjust to the crescendo of sound.

"I guess I should thank you," the soft voice of the younger man dressed in a blue overcoat spoke as he paced closer.

"But that'd be out of character," the man in red joked, turning to face the young man. "Maybe you should just throw an insult my way instead."

"Yeah, that sounds better," the other agreed smiling, a soft chuckle resonating in his voice. "But still I owe you."

The elder man couldn't suppress the small smile that spread onto his features as his comrade turned to face him.

"Don't sweat it," he reassured stoically, nonchalantly waving his hand. "I had my reasons for helping. Take care of yourself."

Closing the small distance, the man in red gently patted the younger man on his left shoulder before slowly advancing toward a particularly ruined gate. The warrior clad in blue turned to face the other's retreating back, only then remembering what he had originally sought out the other for.

"Wait!" he called as he held out the sheathed katana. "You forgot this."

The older warrior stared down at the ground before glancing over his shoulder as the familiar blade of his fallen brother came into view, the object clenched tightly in the boy's demonic hand. Despite the fact he had made a big deal out of obtaining the sword that was once his brother's, at the moment, he figured his brother should watch over the kid instead.

"Keep it," the man in red commented in an even tone causing the boy to tilt his head in confusion.

"What? I thought this thing meant a lot to you?" he questioned as he lowered the sword.

"That's the only kind of gift worth giving," the elder warrior explained. "I want to entrust it to you, and so I am. What you do from here is your call."

He offered his comrade a final smile and nod of acknowledgement before turning on his right heel and stalking toward the exit. He figured with Yamato in hand, the kid would have no worries moving on in the world. The guaranteed protection of his brother also provided the man with peace of mind. With his job completed, he began his long journey back home to Capulet City, where his famed home _Devil May Cry_ awaited patiently for his return.

"Hey Dante!" the younger man called after him. "Will we meet again?"

Without a passing glance, nor stopping to answer, the elder man dressed in a crimson overcoat merely lifted his right hand, waving two fingers stiffly in the air before exiting the town's central plaza. He had a feeling they would meet again one day, however he was a demon hunter, not a fortune-teller. Therefore, he merely left whatever was in store for them in the hands of fate.

…

A total of six years had passed in the aftermath of the fall of His Holiness and the Savior. Along with a mysterious woman's aid, the citizens of the ruined city of Fortuna were able to safely journey back from Trinity City. In the past few months, the townspeople began to slowly restore and rebuild the castle town, under the watchful eye of the newly rebuilt Order. Nero sighed heavily as he stood before a massive window overlooking the town plaza high atop the old cathedral. His faithful sword, the Red Queen hung securely against his back, the recently polished blade glistening in the sun.

At his right hip hung the holster for his other weapon of choice; a silver, hand-crafted six-shot revolver with a custom dual barrel design named the Blue Rose. The handgun itself was originally just a plain SAA Colt collecting dust in a pawn shop, until Nero found and revamped it. Truth be told, ever since the end of the age of the Savior, fewer and fewer demons had graced Fortuna's streets with their presence. However, Nero felt that even though the years of peace were finally upon them, the city still needed the protection of the Order. Therefore, along with Kyrie and a few surviving members of the old Order, the New Order was established.

"Well, it looks like we have enough people for the new Order," Nero acknowledged as he gazed down upon a meeting for new recruits.

"_Now all we need is a leader," Kyrie's gentle voice sounded to his right as she too supervised the congregation._

"_That's true," the silver-haired man agreed smiling. "If only Credo were still here, he'd make a great leader."_

"_Why don't you be leader Nero?" the young woman suggested._

"_What?" Nero questioned, surprised. "Nah, I couldn't possibly be the leader. I don't have the social and diplomatic power or skills to do so."_

"_Oh Nero, don't be silly," she retorted embracing his right arm. "You'll make a great leader."_

"Nero," a strong voice called behind him.

"Angelo," Nero addressed as he turned to face his comrade. "What is it?"

"The initiation of the newly elected leader is about to begin," Angelo informed. "Your presence is required."

"I'll be right there, thank you," he answered nodding his head.

Turning back to face the town plaza currently under construction, Nero exhaled slowly, nibbling lightly on his lower lip. The ceremony was to be a long and boring one, no doubt. It would consist of speeches, sermons and what not, and he didn't really feel like going. However it was a requirement for all members of the Order to be present during any kind of ceremony, and the election of a new leader was no exception. Shaking his head briefly he turned away from the window before dragging his feet down the hall toward the ceremony room.

…

"Thank you everyone," one of the high knights second to Credo announced as he stood before a podium, his voice slowly silencing the applause. "Before we get to the unveiling of the new leader, I would just like to take a moment to reflect on the Order's miraculous recovery from the devastation we faced so few years prior."

Nero groaned and fidgeted in his seat as Credo's second in command drew out numerous praises for the Order's officials, memoirs of Credo and his devout service, and the future of the organization itself. Crossing his arms, he chose to stare holes into the wooden base of the podium, the idolized symbol of the Order emblazoned across its slick surface. A few minutes into the speech, he began to nod off, his head bobbing every so often he would fall asleep.

"Nero!" Kyrie whispered before jabbing her right elbow into his ribs. "Pay attention!"

"Like I can," he retorted. "This guy isn't exactly very interesting."

"And now without further ado…" the knight announced as he was handed a parchment. "The new leader of the Order of the Sword is…Zachary!"

A thunderous applause followed the unveiling of the new leader as the chosen knight took his place at the podium, waving a few times in thanks for the nomination. Nero re-crossed his legs for the sixth time as he nonchalantly clapped his hands. Kyrie rolled her eyes before jabbing him in his side again. Groaning from the severe boredom he was suffering from, the young knight stood from his spot before promptly striding over to the exit. He had a feeling that Zachary would have been picked as the new leader since he always seemed to kiss up to Credo a lot.

"Eh, he only got to be Credo's right hand man because he kissed his ass the most," Nero retorted snidely as he paced out into the afternoon sunlight. "But what do I care, I'm just sick and tired of doing nothing but routine drills all damn day long. I want some action!"

Returning to grumbling under his breath, the young demon slayer passed by a small bulletin board that usually contained various announcements and events that were to occur in the city. One such poster happened to catch his eye.

_Demon problems? In need of an exterminator?_

Nero furrowed his brow as he continued to stare at the rather poorly made poster. The only thing that happened to catch his eye were three little words that read _Devil May Cry_. He merely scoffed as he ripped the flyer off of the board and shoved it into his right pocket. He couldn't exactly understand why the townspeople should worry about outside demon slaying services when they have a whole task force dedicated to the capture and eradication of any kind of demon known to man. A small smirk curled the right corner of his lips as a sinister idea popped into his mind.

"Perhaps I should prank call these guys a few times just to piss them off," he planned as he journeyed back to the new headquarters on the outskirts of town.

…

"Nero, there you are!" another knight called as he rushed to meet him. "Where have you been?"

"Sorry, I just needed a little exercise is all," Nero answered smugly as he inserted his hands into his pockets. "So what do you need?"

"The Council is meeting in the boardroom right now, and your presence is highly requested," the official relayed.

"Heh, when isn't it?" he commented coarsely before opening the door into the mentioned room.

"Ah Nero, just the man we were looking for," Angelo greeted as he leaned forward on an ovular table.

"Eh, come on Angelo, I'm not that special," Nero remarked as he plopped down in a vacant seat, the other congregated knights staring disapprovingly at him.

"Well, now that you've finally decided to grace us with your presence, let's get back to business shall we?" the knight of valor continued as he turned to face the panoramic view of the rebuilt city. "Now then, as you all know, Fortuna is finally managing to get back to its former glory after the devastating uprising and activation of the hell gates that were a product of the now deceased scientist Agnus. Thanks to you Nero, and the mysterious demon slayer known as Dante, the hell gates have been destroyed and the remaining demons were expelled from this world. However, with the Order and the city still in shambles we are required to branch out to the rest of the world for assistance."

"Like an alliance?" questioned one of the knights.

"Precisely," Angelo agreed as he straightened his back, glancing around at the other members present. "That is why we are requesting that you brave knights seek out the cities our scanners have located, and search for any kind of organization that partakes in the slaying of demons. Placed before each and every one of you is an envelope with a city's name and location, both global and street-wise. As decorated knights of the Order we humbly request that you make this journey for the good of Fortuna. And may the real Savior be with you on your journeys. You are dismissed."

As Angelo turned back to face the massive window, the other members of the Order murmured quietly to themselves or to their neighbors as they collected their missions and prepared for their trips. Nero however casually placed his feet up onto his end of the table before retrieving his own assignment. Opening the envelope, he noticed a small picture as well as an index card cascade out of the open flap as he pulled his assignment out. On the half-sheet of paper, the name _Capulet City_ was written in fancy cursive letters.

Dismissing the small sheet, Nero then focused on the two parchments that fell free of the envelope upon its opening. The picture was of a small building, which boasted a neon sign reading _Devil May Cry._ The building itself was of very simple design, with little to please the eye save for the sign. Nero sighed before glancing at the remaining parchment, the word, or rather name _Eva, _was written in bold, evenly spaced letters. Furrowing his brow, he glanced back up at Angelo, who had yet to move from his spot overlooking the city.

"Eva?" he questioned. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"It's a secret password," Angelo answered, glancing over his left shoulder. "The owner of that shop is very picky about whom he helps. The people who are able to figure out his password can more or less be guaranteed his expert services."

"So who is this guy?" Nero continued glancing back at the photograph. "_Devil May Cry? Why does that name ring a bell?_"

"We didn't get that far," the elder knight answered before a heavy sigh cascaded over his lips. "Our informant didn't dare speak his name for fear of a curse descending upon him."

"A curse? Please…" the silver-haired knight groaned as he rolled his eyes. "What is this guy a soothsayer or something?"

"Who knows, he prefers to work alone, and he only takes jobs that the average Joe would never be able to afford," Angelo continued as he turned to fully face Nero.

"If he only does expensive jobs, then how are we supposed to ally him to our cause?" Nero questioned curtly. "The fucker probably won't even consider it."

"And that is why we are sending you Nero," the Council leader concluded. "We are confident that you will find a way of converting him to our cause."

"Sheesh, you guys sure aren't picky are ya?" the young knight retorted as he stood. "Alright, I'll see what I can do, but I'm not going to promise you anything. If he doesn't want to cooperate, then I'm not going to force him. Besides, why would we need the services of a gold digger anyway? He'd only rape our treasury in the ass."

"Good-bye Nero," Angelo dismissed forcefully as he practically pushed the foul-mouthed youth out the door.

"Heh, I sure hope this other guy isn't as straight-laced as he is," Nero commented, a sneer tainting his features.

…

"Well, I guess this is good-bye for a few days Kyrie," Nero replied as he slung a small backpack around his shoulders, a motorcycle helmet clutched in his left hand.

"Be careful alright?" Kyrie ordered before wrapping her arms tightly around his body. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too babe," he whispered before gently kissing her. "Don't worry, I won't do anything too dangerous. After all, I'm only going to a meeting with this guy, and whether or not he joins us, I'm still coming back."

"I'll still be here when you get back," the young woman promised, a warm smile gracing her lips.

Nero smiled warmly at her before securing his backpack against his torso and fastening his helmet onto his head. Straddling his motorcycle, he revved the engine a few times before checking to see that his sword and his revolver were securely fastened across the seat behind him. Glancing up one more time at Kyrie, he waved good-bye before lifting the kickstand and speeding off down the road toward a distant mountain range. Kyrie continued to wave good-bye until she could no longer see his bike speeding along the mountainside road. Slowly lowering her hand, she enclosed her fingers around the small pendent Nero had presented to her the day the uprising had begun.

"I'll wait for you," she whispered before retreating back into the new Order's headquarters.

…

Meanwhile in the outskirts of Dalinski City, a horde of demons, both large and small crowed around a single man, raring to attack. The man smirked as he casually flared the tail end of his crimson overcoat, reaching for his twin handguns. One of the demons, a dog-like creature with a skeletal head and a snake for a tail, roared at him before pouncing. The man in red's smirk grew slightly as he fired off a single round, driving a bullet clean into the beast's head, silencing it in one quick motion. As the dog demon fell back onto the ground, the others began to roar, hiss and whine in unison as they mourned their fallen comrade.

"Heh, who's next?" the man remarked coyly as he twirled his guns in either hand.

Enter Dante, the infamous demon slayer of Capulet City and the founder of _Devil May Cry._ Aside from his dealings in the underground business of demon hunting, he also works part-time as a local mercenary. Whatever one wished to call him, he only offered his services to those who would be able to afford his outstanding prices. His trademark smirk never alleviated his features as he mowed through wave after wave of demons. His twin guns complied faithfully to his touch as bullet after smoking bullet was fired in the succession rivaled closely with that of a machine or Gatling gun. Through the years, Dante had since earned the reputation of a legend among Capulet's citizens mostly for his success in the jobs he was given.

No matter the job or the number of demons, Dante would always find a way to solve the problem or eliminate the hordes, either by sheer willpower or brute force. His greatest challenge overcame to this date was his battle with the infamous demon known as Abigail. Alone, he would never have been able to bring the fearsome beast to its spindly knees, but thanks to a young girl by the name of Patty Lowell, he came back from hell in order to send Abigail to take his place. A soft groan escaped his vocal chords as he finished off the last demon to attack. By now, he was covered in a rainbow of demon blood and his breath was slightly labored from having to dodge so many attacks at once. The barrels of his twin guns were smoking from exertion and friction of firing off so many rounds in one setting.

"Another job well done," he commented as he holstered his handguns and headed back into town, seeking out his idle motorcycle. "Is it just me or are demons now-a-days really annoying? Oh wait, they've always been that way. Never mind."

Sighing heavily, he turned the idle key in the ignition slot, causing the vehicle's engine to roar to life. Revving the engine a few times, he lifted the kickstand before speeding down the interstate road that led out of Dalisnki and toward Capulet. Few of his clients really know of his history, and none bother to really question him about it, since he would never answer them anyway. He is actually a son of the demon warrior Sparda, who earned a place in the history books for his courageous act of protecting the human world from the demon world. During his life, he came to know a human woman by the name of Eva. How they met is still a mystery, but the legend speaks of him siring twin sons. In order to seal the demon world off from the human world, Sparda had devised a plan, which required the creation of a sword and two pendants.

When his twin sons were born, Sparda had gained the reputation of being a traitor to demon-kind and was thus hunted down to be executed. Fearing for his sons' lives and the life of his wife, Sparda ordered Eva to protect their children by going into hiding in the human world. Along with her, he entrusted the two pendants and the sword thus named Yamato. He eventually succeeded in sealing off the two worlds from each other, but in doing so sacrificed his life. Heartbroken by the turn of events, Eva cared for their children on her own until she was discovered by earthbound demons. Barely old enough to look out for themselves, Eva instructed her sons to run and hide, to seek out their own protection from the demons. With each of them, she left one of the pendants ensuring that the two worlds remain separate.

Vergil was able to escape, but the demons followed Dante and Eva, wishing to eradicate anyone and anything that remained of Sparda's legacy. Eventually Dante was able to make his escape, but at the willing sacrifice of his mother's life. To this very day, he still mourns her death. His only memory of her is in the form of a small photograph, which forever more adorns the top of his desk. The elder demon slayer stifled a gaping yawn as he turned a small corner before reaching his office _Devil May Cry_. The neon sign was somewhat hard to read in the waning light, but the name was unmistakable. After all, it had been his home ever since his mother's passing, and over the years, it had become more like one. Sighing softly, Dante eased his motorcycle into its regular spot next to the door. Pushing down the kickstand, he raked his right hand through his silver lochs before turning off the engine and pulling the key free from the ignition.

"Boy what I wouldn't do for a nice, long, hot shower right about now," he mumbled to himself as he swung his right leg over top his bike.

Trudging up the few stairs to the large ornate doors, he nonchalantly pushed open the right door before reaching his right hand toward a small light switch positioned to the doors' left. The switch activated the neon sign out front, which buzzed to life, flickering a few times before finally blazing solid. Flicking two more switches to the left of the first one, the building's internal lights clicked on, including a second _Devil May Cry_ sign stationed above a mini bar in the back corner of the room. Humming a familiar tune to himself, Dante shrugged out of his trademark red leather overcoat before hanging it neatly on a coat rack stationed just behind his large desk. Next, he pulled Ebony and Ivory from their respective holsters and placed the twin handguns on his desk, before leaning Rebellion against the wall next to his overcoat. Pacing over to his illuminated jukebox, he flipped through the selections a few times before settling on a song. As the comforting sounds of blaring vocals, shrieking chords from various guitars and pounding sets from powerful drums vibrated the very baseboards of the establishment, Dante slowly began to peel away the bloody layers of clothing that seemed to stick to his skin, throwing them on the floor afterward.

…

Nero sighed before shaking his head as night fell upon the landscape. He had been driving for hours, and the trip was really beginning to affect him. By the time the last remaining light from the previous day had long passed beneath the horizon, he had passed the city limits of Capulet and was just entering into the heart of the actual city. Luckily for him, the directions were quite accurate and easy to follow, and before a half hour had passed, he slowed his bike to a stop in order to gaze up at the neon sign, which read _Devil May Cry._ Revving his engine twice, the young demon slayer coasted his motorcycle to rest next to a similar bike parked just beside the establishment's massive doors. He then pushed the kickstand down into place before switching off his bike and pulling the keys out of the ignition. Unclipping his helmet, Nero placed the object down on his seat before untying his effects and turning to face the building. From his second glance at the sign, he soon noticed that the "D" was profusely blinking in rapid succession, almost as if it would fizzle out in any day's time.

He merely scoffed before ascending the four steps up to the door. At first he contemplated knocking, but he then remembered that this building's proprietor was running a business, so he merely opened the door and walked in. The first thing to assault him upon his entrance was the blaring music coming from a rather large jukebox in the corner of the room. He smirked at the choice of tunes, quickly finding himself falling into step with the beat as he journeyed further into the room. Along the walls were display cases filled with swords, guns, or the occasional trophy demon. One such display case held three stuffed bodies of scarecrows. Nero couldn't suppress a bubbling laugh at the fact that he himself had decimated enough of those demons to fill a whole museum. Shaking his head to ease his laughter, his eyes then fell upon a rather spacious desk that was the centerpiece of the room. The desk itself contained a single magazine, an old school circle dial telephone and a picture frame.

Tilting his head to the right, Nero paced closer to the desk before retrieving the picture frame to see whose picture was encased in its golden borders. The picture of a smiling woman met his gaze upon its reveal. The woman had long blonde hair, which cascaded down past the picture's edges. Her eyes where a pale shade of blue and her soft, full lips were curled into a kind, motherly smile. The picture itself spread a small smile onto the young man's lips before he returned the picture onto the desk. Visually absorbing more of the room, his gaze soon came to rest upon a small bar in the corner of the room right next to the jukebox. Traversing over to the bar, a smirk formed onto his pale pink lips as multiple bottles of wine, beer and champagne came into view. Whoever this guy was, he figured, certainly knew how to entertain.

"Hey, get away from there!" a strong voice called from the other side of the room. "That's my personal stash!"

Narrowing his eyes, Nero quickly pulled Blue Rose from its holster before turning on his heel to aim at whoever was in the room with him. However, once his gaze locked with his visitor, he quickly lowered his gun.

"Dante!" he acknowledged as the aforementioned slowly descended the staircase, toweling off his hair in the process.

"Nero?" the elder demon slayer questioned. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Nero answered as he holstered Blue Rose.

"I live here," Dante replied before carelessly throwing his damp towel onto the floor beside his desk. "This is my house after all."

"Oh really?" the younger man questioned, cocking his left eyebrow.

"Yeah really," came a sarcastic response. "So what are you doing here anyway?"

"I'm on a mission actually," Nero began as Dante rounded his desk to sit in his chair.

"What kind of mission?" Dante questioned as he propped his feet up on top of the desk, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

"I was assigned to the job of requesting your help in the restoration of Fortuna City and the Order," he explained, leaning forward on the desk, involuntarily partaking in a staring contest with the elder demon slayer. "In other words, the Order is creating a world-wide alliance, and they request that other demon slayers join the cause."

"Heh, no can do kid," the other answered stoically before turning his head to the right, tearing his gaze away from Nero's. "I prefer to work alone. I want no part in some stupid alliance formed by an organization that I originally fought to destroy."

"I figured as much," Nero sighed, bowing his head before trudging over to one of the leather couches and flopping down on it, groaning afterward. "And I came all the way out here to see your ass too."

"You want to see my ass?" Dante questioned, quirking his right eyebrow. "Gee kid, I didn't know you swung that way."

"Shut up you perverted old man!" the younger slayer shouted, shooting a death glare at him. "I didn't mean it like that!"

"Eh, I wouldn't have shown you anyway," the elder silver-haired man answered chuckling. "It's much to nice and sexy for you to handle."

"Dante, are you doing that on purpose?" Nero questioned as he switched to lying on his stomach facing the elder man. "Or are you going to an ulterior motive?"

"Nah, I just like messing with you," Dante answered as he plucked the phone's receiver from the plastic base, dialing an all-too-familiar number. "Hello? Yeah, I'd like to order for delivery…yeah the usual…yes I know, I'll pay you at the end of the month okay? Alright, thank you…bye."

"What was that all about?" Nero questioned as he laid his head upon his crossed arms.

"Just ordering a pizza," the other slayer replied before picking up the lone magazine on the desk and proceeding to flip through it. "You're more than welcome to have some if you'd like."

"Thanks…I actually am….kind of hungry," Nero replied softly as his growling stomach reminded him of how empty it was.

"So how is Fortuna? Still in ruin?" Dante questioned, not bothering to glance away from his magazine.

"Actually, it's half-way to being completely restored," the younger man corrected lightly. "Not only that, but the Order has been rebuilt and we have a new leader as well."

"Heh, let's hope that your little group doesn't end up like it did before when the new guy turns seventy," Dante remarked coyly.

"Eh, I don't think he will," Nero detested as his right leg cascaded onto the floor, his thick boot creating a dull thud upon impacting the floor. "So, what have you been up to old man?"

"Hey, come on, I'm not _that _old," the other demon slayer corrected flipping through the magazine. "Do I really look that old to you?"

"Well, no, but it's fun to call you an old man," the Order official answered, a wide smile forming across his lips.

"You would say that," Dante sighed as he discarded the magazine, the object colliding with the phone. "So how's Nero now-a-days? You still with that girl...what's her name…uh…Kyrie or something?"

"Yeah, Kyrie," Nero confirmed. "Yeah, we're still together. As for how I am, I'm doing all right. I've been training some new recruits, and boy they're a handful."

"Just like you were kid," the elder man remarked smirking.

"Hey, I wasn't that bad," the man in blue huffed as he propped his upper body up onto his forearms, crossing them afterward.

"You sure about that?" Dante questioned, his smirk curling the right corner of his mouth profusely.

"Heh, okay," Nero complied as he pushed himself up off of the couch before walking over to the jukebox. "Alright, I'll admit it, I guess I was a little hot-headed back then."

"A little?" the elder slayer retorted, snorting in detest. "Kid, you were so _hot-headed_ that you jumped at the chance to fight me even when I was just passing by. Truth be told, your childish anger only served to amuse me, but still…who would've thought that you'd be so eager just to fight anything that moved."

"Oh, and you didn't?" the younger Order official questioned sarcastically as he flipped through the selections. "What's this? _The Devil's Cry_…hmm."

"Not as much as you kid," Dante commented as he tilted his chair back onto two legs, stretching his torso in the process. "Me…I prefer to toy with my enemies…in a way I find what really irks them before using their own strength against them. It saves time and energy, when you really think about it."

"So that would explain why you never looked really tired when we fought at all," Nero replied as he finally decided upon a song, turning back around to face his old comrade afterward. "How do you do it?"

"Hmm?" the partially dressed slayer hummed before yawning.

"How do you do it?" he reiterated. "How do you turn an enemy's strength into their greatest weakness?"

"Sorry kid, I'm not one to simply share my fighting techniques with you," Dante answered before folding his hands behind his head. "I mean, I like you as a friend, but fighting's just something you have to figure out on your own. It's taken me years to perfect my style; just take your time. It'll eventually come to you."

"Mr. Dante!" a slightly muffled voice called from outside the massive ornate doors. "Delivery!"

"Hey kid, you mind getting the door?" the elder silver-haired man questioned.

Nero rolled his eyes in annoyance before pacing over to the door and opening it. After a few exchanged words, the pizza box exchanged hands and the delivery boy was down the stairs and into his car. The young Order official glanced down at the receipt he was handed along with the pizza, absorbing a moment to view the totals before walking back to Dante's desk.

"Wow, you sure owe them a lot of money," he observed as he placed the box down on the desk. "I can't believe they let you put off paying."

"The guy that owns the shop is a good friend of mine," Dante explained as he pulled the box closer to the middle of the desk before opening it and retrieving a piece for himself. "I met him during one of my missions a few years ago. It turns out that he had a slight demon problem, and that if I was to get rid of them, he'd let me have as much pizza as I could want."

"Then why does he send you the bill if this is his thank you?" Nero questioned as he placed the receipt down next to the phone before claiming a slice.

"Well, he didn't exactly say the pizza was going to be free," the elder man corrected, taking another bite of his first piece. "However, he does let me have a tab, which I pay whenever I want."

"That sure is nice of him," the younger slayer commented, readily consuming his own piece.

"Well, sometimes demon slaying has its benefits," Dante responded as he finished his first before retrieving another slice. "So, how long are ya staying for?"

"Just a few days," Nero answered as he finished his first, glancing over at the pool table stationed just before the staircase. "You don't mind do you?"

"Nah," the experienced slayer answered, switching the positions of his feet on his desk. "You're a welcome guest, unlike some of my other visitors."

"Visitors?" the young official questioned as he paced over to the table, circling the object a few times in order to retrieve the colorful numbered balls out of the corner and side pockets.

"Yeah, mostly my assigners," Dante explained, finishing his second slice before removing his feet from the top of the desk in order to stand up, stretching his whole body afterward. "Two women and two guys, go figure."

Nero smiled as he cued up the numbered billiards, rolling the formed triangle a few times to set the balls. Lifting the triangular set, he retrieved an idle cue stick leaning against the far wall adjacent to the leather couch before placing the cue ball down on the silver circle in the open end of the table. Chalking the end of his cue stick, the young demon slayer leaned slightly over the polished edge of the table, snaking the stick in between his index and middle fingers. Squinting his eyes slightly, he carefully lined up his shot before thrusting the stick forward, contacting the cue ball. The struck cue raced toward the triangle of billiards, scattering the formation afterward. Nero straightened his back as the colored balls raced along the table's level surface, some falling into a few of the pockets lining the table.

"Not bad kid," Dante commented as he retrieved a stick for himself, chalking the end afterward.

"Eh, I thought so," Nero replied before lining the cue ball up with another small group of billiards.

"I didn't think you played pool," the rogue demon hunter noted as he followed the cue ball following Nero's turn.

"Oh yeah," the younger man answered as Dante lined up his shot. "Believe it or not, there were a few decent bars scattered around Fortuna. Each of them had about four to five pool tables."

"Let me guess, that's what you did when you didn't feel like going to work in the Order right?" Dante questioned as he shot the cue ball toward a lone billiard, sinking the ball in one of the corner pockets.

"You could say that," Nero commented, a light chuckle in his voice. "Working under Credo's supervision can get quite tedious."

"You know, you never really told me how old you are," the elder slayer commented as he lined up for his next shot.

"Twenty-seven," the Order official answered stoically.

"Really?" Dante remarked, leaning on his cue stick as the other slayer took his turn.

"Yeah, I was twenty-one when we met in Fortuna," Nero informed as he lined up his shot.

"Man, how time flies," the slightly dressed slayer commented before shaking his head. "And yet you look like you've barely changed since I last saw you."

"Is that a good thing?" the younger man questioned, aiming for the last billiard on the table.

"Well, it's not a bad thing," Dante continued, shrugging his shoulders before laying his cue stick on the table top upon the completion of the game. "Besides, I kind of like the more grown-up you."

"I guess I'll take that as a compliment," Nero remarked, wrinkling the bridge of his nose slightly.

"Take it however you want kid," the experienced slayer commented before journeying into one of the back rooms. "But I'm sticking to my words."

"Well, if I'm so grown-up to you," the younger slayer began, crossing his arms over his chest. "Then how come you still refer to me as _kid_?"

"Because you'll always be a kid to me," Dante answered, pulling a shirt over his head upon his return. "No matter how old you get."

"Jeez," Nero retorted, rolling his eyes before stifling a yawn. "Now you sound like my father."

"Tired?" the other demon slayer questioned tilting his head.

"A little," the younger official answered rubbing his eyelids. "It was a rather long drive over."

"I'll bet," Dante remarked, placing his hands on his hips. "Fortuna isn't exactly a hop, skip and a jump away."

"Cute, Dante, real cute," Nero retorted, stretching his body afterward.

"I thought so," the elder man commented coyly. "Well, unfortunately, I don't have much in the way of a guest room, however you can sleep on the couch if you like. I mean, the other option would be to sleep in my bed, but I kind of sleep there."

"Yeah, I think I'll opt for the couch," the Order official replied before detaching his Red Queen from his back, leaning the weapon against the wall adjacent to Rebellion.

Next was Blue Rose, which was laid gently on top of the small coffee table stationed before the two couches the elder demon slayer owned. After stretching a second time, Nero shrugged out of his overcoat before slipping out of his boots. Finished with his preparations, he finally stretched out across one of the couches, utilizing his overcoat as a makeshift blanket. Dante smiled slightly as he watched the whole procedure, finding his rather polite etiquette to be rather humbling. He then noticed the soft, pulsating glow of the younger man's demonic arm as he used the appendage as a makeshift pillow. Sighing softly, the elder slayer ascended the staircase, skipping ever other step in order to quickly reach the top, opening the door to his room afterward. Dante absorbed a moment to glance over his rather untidy room before pacing over to his bed, retrieving one of his own pillows. Turning on his left heel, he exited his room and descended the staircase, the pillow clutched loosely in his right hand.

"Hey kid," he called walking closer to the occupied couch. "You still awake?"

During his trip up to his room, the younger slayer had all but passed out on the couch, his facial features relaxed into a state of deep sleep. His breathing was also deeper, indicating just how far gone in his mind he really was. Shaking his head briefly, Dante carefully lifted the younger man's head before slipping the retrieved pillow in place. After the experienced demon slayer pulled his work-worn hands free from under Nero's head, the Order official unconsciously adjusted to the slight changes. Dante then glanced over toward his rather unused closet, pacing over to it afterward.

Opening the door, he soon noted a neatly folded blanket occupying the top shelf along with a few books. Retrieving the blanket, he quickly unfolded the object, shaking it a few times to slightly loosen the folds. Wordlessly, he momentarily threw the blanket over his left shoulder before retrieving Nero's overcoat, hanging the object on the coat pole next to his. The younger man curled into a ball from the absence of his overcoat before relaxing once Dante spread the blanket over his slightly shivering form.

"Good night Nero," he whispered before walking over to the light panel next to the door, turning the dial so the lights dimmed.

He then sighed heavily before pacing back to his desk. Plopping down in his chair, he retrieved another slice of pizza before returning to his previously discarded magazine, paging through the object to read the articles he had overlooked.


	2. Mission 2: Into the Darkness

Words from the author: Hey everyone who has read/faved/commented on this story so far! I'd just like to say thanks so much for your comments, they helped bring this chapter to frutition quicker than it would have been...anyway. Thanks again and enjoy. Chapter 2! This one get's more involved with Nero and Dante's relationship, plus it introduces the main baddie! ^_^

For an idea of what songs Dante and Nero play, listen to these songs from the Devil May Cry anime soundtrack:

#06. "Life is on You"

#23. "d.m.c. (Gut. Guitar Version)"

#13. "d.m.c. (Band Version)"

#15. (Japanese Title)

in that order. :D

Devil May Cry and the characters associated with the game are (c) Capcom. I own nothing but copies of the games :D

..............................................................................................................................................................

"Are the subjects ready yet?" a sinister voice questioned as its owner stood before a massive illuminated tank.

"Almost my liege," a second voice answered as a smaller, slighter figure slinked toward a flashing control board stationed before the tank. "They shall be ready in a few hours' time."

"Good," the first voice commented as a wicked smile creased the figure's thin lips. "However, I won't be requiring their assistance just yet. I have some work to do. In the meantime, keep tabs on that damned Order. Their resurrection has left me utterly bitter."

"As you wish," the slighter figure replied before bowing deeply.

Turning back to face the creature suspended in a bubbling solution of sodium nitrate, the lowly figure proceeded to type random sequences into an illuminated keyboard on a vast master control board. The person's facial features softened into an expression of pure awe as the mass of organic and synthetic materials began to writhe in the toxic solution. The once steady stream of bubbles began to dramatically increase as the beast began to function. Steam hissed periodically from the tank's tubular connections, thus prompting for alarm sirens to blare as the tank itself began to malfunction. As precious seconds ticked away, the man-made creation opened its neon green eyes wide before narrowing the rhombus-shaped folds of scaled skin as it began to thrash about.

The scientist looked on in a mixture of awe and fear as the creature continued to test the limitations of its newfound body and structures. Its prolonged thrashing managed to thread the various test markers surrounding its body in intricate patterns before snapping the wires causing any vitality readings to shut down, thus reading the creature as being deceased. The next specifications the creature tested were its long, razor-sharp claws protruding from both its hands and feet. In a moment of respite, the creature calmed its sporadic movement in favor of surveying its world through the distorted vision of the thick glass tube it was encased in. Absorbing a few moments, the creature's keen eyesight focused primarily on the various flashing lights of the control panels before it eventually picked up on the scientist's movements.

Narrowing its eyes once again, the creature reeled its head back before opening its elongated jaws, a ravishing roar straining its submerged vocal chords. However, the frequency of the created sound proved too substantial for the glass tank and a deep fissure formed on the object's otherwise unblemished surface. A crooked smile distorted the scientist's features as the lone crack began to grow from the skyrocketing pressure change. Eventually the crack began to branch off in different directions, creating a spider's web of intricate and hair-thin fissures, which greatly weakened the structure. With a loud groan, the glass gave way, spilling forth the toxic liquid and various shards of sparkling fragments, which shattered noisily on the frothing floor.

"It's magnificent!" the scientist cried as the control panels began to spark and ignite from the exposure to the sodium nitrate solution. "Simply remarkable!"

Slowly, the synthetic creature stood onto its hind legs, a low rumbling growl echoing in its throat. With out the distortion of the solution and the glass, the creature's scaly skin was a luminescent shade of dark violet, the scales glistening with a rainbow of colors as it reflected the light. Its single-color eye slits resembled a haunting shade of jade green; a round circle of white darting back and forth under the color's surface served as its pupil. The creature's belly was comparable to the underbellies of many reptiles, and its tail was a long whip-like appendage that was made up of several bare vertebrae, which were held together and given flexibility from the exposed tendons. Its long arms and legs rivaled that of a long deceased veloca raptor, however unlike its prehistoric reference, this synthetic creature possessed a sturdy and nimbly flexible spine, which allowed it to stand upright or curl into a tight ball. Its head was elongated back into a single point with two extra spikes on either side of its head, primarily branching off of its eyes. Its snout was also slightly elongated with multitudes of razor-sharp fangs concealed beneath its scaly lips. It flared its nostrils several times as it continued to stare at the gaping scientist.

"My liege!" he shouted as he ran to the door. "My liege, come quick! It has awakened!"

The beast snorted before opening its jaws, unleashing an ear-splitting roar, which shattered any remaining glass in the testing room. The creature's roar also managed to puncture the scientist's eardrums, rendering his sense of hearing useless. An agonizing scream vibrated his vocal chords as blood began to trickle out of both his ears. He then began to scream aimlessly, unable to even hear his own cries as his creation began to stalk closer to him. His awe began to drain away as solid fear encroached on his once confident being. The creature's own ears twitched with each different frequency the acute appendages were able to detect. It then opened its jaws in an unnatural smile, acidic saliva dripping from its teeth. The scientist managed one final inaudible scream as the creature responded with its own before pouncing on its prey. Screams of pain and panic soon filled the facility's metallic walls as the experiment's creator was ripped apart and steadily consumed.

After the screams had finally died away with the resonate humming of the various machines, which operated to a digital pulse, the sinister figure whom had originally ordered for the creature to be created paced down toward the practically decimated laboratory. Entering the room's threshold, the broad features of a battle-hardened man became bathed in the abundant crimson light painting the room a sinister hue. Emotionlessly, he glanced down upon the remains of the scientist who created the monstrosity that was currently roaming the small room. Upon his discovery, the creature roared at him, however unlike the scientist, the man in the doorway merely retained his steely glare. Flexing its lean muscles, the creature then leapt at its new target before the man quickly fired off a bone crunching punch with his right fist, succeeding in throwing the creature back into a few undamaged control panels.

Cracking his knuckles, the man stepped further into the room, his ice-cold glare never leaving the creature's writhing body. Before the beast managed to regain its footing, the powerful man constricted his fingers around the back of its neck, pushing it back onto the floor. Lowering himself down closer to the growling creature, the man growled low in his throat before unleashing an inhuman roar, his eyes flashing red. Almost instantly, the synthetic creature ceased its writhing and issued forth a stifled purr. Releasing his grip on the creature, it shook its body, ridding the translucent scales of any access sodium nitrate solution. Solidifying its loyalty to the man, it circled his clothed legs, rubbing its body against the fabric before snarling low in its throat. With a grunt, the man nudged the now loyal beast away from him before walking out of the door. Tilting its head to one side, the creature hiccupped before following after its newfound leader.

"You have awaken much sooner than I had predicted," he informed the beast. "However, with someone as careless as that no good scientist was, I'm not very surprised."

He then chuckled softly to himself as he entered a second laboratory with three more tanks, each containing the embryos of synthetic beings similar to the recently awakened one.

"Ah, no matter," he continued as he stared at the suspended masses of tissue. "I had intended to leave for the castle town soon anyway. However, you will not be allowed to follow me. You wait here until I summon you, understand?"

The creature nodded stiffly before wandering off to explore more of its surroundings.

"You may have eluded me once before son of Sparda," the steely-eyed man muttered to himself before a wicked toothy grin pulled at his lips. "But you will not do so again. And with your worthless brother out of the way, you shall be no problem what-so-ever!"

…

As a new day broke over the artificial horizon line of Capulet City, the radiant rays of sunlight filtered serenely through various windows of the many buildings the city had to offer. One such building received a softening glow as warming rays of energy sliced into the cold atmosphere of the establishment. As the sun's angle changed over the course of a few minutes, the beams of light and energy played across a reclined figure before a massive desk. The person's feet were still perched atop the sturdy desk as their owner balanced his body weight back into a stately wooden chair. An idle travel magazine was precariously draped over his face as he continued to slumber in an otherwise uncomfortable position. However, once the rays of energy played across his semi-covered features, the man began to wake.

Groaning softly in his throat, the man proceeded to stretch his stiff arms and back, tilting his head back as he did so thus causing the magazine to slide off of his face and onto the floor. Repositioning his feet off of his desk and onto the floor, he allowed for the chair he was still occupying to fall back onto four sturdy legs as he slowly opened his eyes. Slipping his right hand under his shirt, he lightly raked his nails over his flat abdomen before standing up out of his chair, blinking a few times to readjust his eyes to the light. Glancing to his right, he soon took note of his visitor, Nero, still sound asleep on the couch, his demonic arm pulsating a soft blue every few seconds. A soft smile curled his dry lips before he trudged lazily over to the twin ornate doors that led in or out of his home. Stopping before the light panel, he flicked off the lights he had originally left on all night. He then stretched his long arms over his head, sighing in relief once they popped back into a comfortable place, thus allowing for blood to flow smoother through the appendages. His stomach was the next to chime in, alerting him to the fact that it was empty.

"Well, I'm hungry," he commented, as he inserted his hands into his pockets before trudging into the small kitchen to see what he could find.

Pushing open the double-hinged door that led into the kitchen, the silver-haired man stared at the rather bland room before pacing over to the refrigerator, opening it afterward. Anyone who would know him could ultimately guess that he was a pizza whore, however that didn't necessarily mean that every single thing he ate was pizza. Glancing at the random foodstuffs placed precariously on the icebox's shelves, he eventually settled on a frigid can of Budweiser beer and an apple. Turning his back to the open refrigerator, he kicked the door closed with his left foot before lifting the unopened can of beer to his lips. He briefly paused to slide his tongue across his lips before placing his two incisor teeth over the pop tab, tilting his wrist afterward thus opening the can. Closing his eyes, he reveled in the brisk bitter taste of the beverage as the frothing bronze liquid cascaded down his throat.

Tilting the can back to an upright position, he absorbed a moment to swallow the remnants of the first mouthful before his tongue darted out to remove any leftovers on his top lip. Exhaling in a rather drawn out sigh of satisfaction, the demon slayer then sunk his teeth into the crisp flesh of the apple, tearing away a generous piece before journeying back out into the main portion of his shop/house. Once he exited the kitchen, he soon found another visitor sitting on his desk reading the magazine that had been previously draped over his face. Taking a moment to chew the juicy flesh of the apple, the man with sapphire-blue eyes stared at the figure of his visitor before swallowing and continuing forth into the room.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," he remarked as his visitor turned to face him. "What are you doing here so early Lady?"

"Actually, the real question to this matter would be, why are you even up this early?" Lady questioned as she alighted from his desk, only to lean on it afterward. "It doesn't really fit your rather lazy style Dante."

"Your guess is as good as mine," Dante remarked as he placed his half consumed can of beer onto his desk. "So what are you here for anyway? If you're here to collect, sorry I don't have your money."

"Aw, come on Dante," the scantily clad woman cooed coyly as she placed her hands on her hips. "I can't just stop by to see how you're doing anymore?"

"Heh, ah Lady," the demon slayer chuckled as he circled his desk, plopping down in his chair afterward. "Like you've ever cared about my well being anyway."

A smirk curled the left corner of Lady's lips before she paced over to the idle pool table, her high-heeled, knee high boots click-clacking on the polished hardwood floor. A soft rustling sound caught her attention, and soon the prone form of a young man with short silver hair and a glowing demonic arm attracted her gaze. Tilting her head to the right, she gazed at the younger man as he continued to sleep, completely oblivious to her presence at all. Slightly distracted from the events of his dream, the silver-haired man groaned softly as his human hand clutched at the soft pillow under his head. Momentarily tearing her gaze away from his slumbering form, she redirected her two-tone eyes at Dante.

"I see you have another guest," she observed, gaining the elder demon slayer's attention. "Where did you find this one?"

"He actually came to me," Dante answered as he finished his apple, tossing the core into a nearby wastebasket.

"Oh really?" Lady questioned as she stepped closer to the youth. "Since when do you open your house to strangers?"

"Eh, he's not a stranger," the experienced hunter proclaimed as he stood from his chair, pacing over to his closet and opening the door afterward. "That's Nero."

"You've lost me," the female demon hunter proclaimed, kneeling down before the occupied couch.

"Well, remember that job in Fortuna you sent me to about six or so years ago?" Dante questioned as he pulled a somewhat dusty cloth guitar case from the back of the closet space, pushing the door closed with his left foot afterward.

"Yeah," Lady agreed as she carefully poked the boy's demonic arm with her right index finger, the glowing appendage reacting to her touch. "What about it?"

"Well, he was my unofficial partner when we brought down the Order," he answered placing the guitar case down on his desk, unzipping the bag afterward. "Well, the _old _Order anyway."

"Oh really?" the woman commented, her red and blue eyes reflecting the neon blue light the demonic skin radiated as the young man before her unconsciously pulled his arm under his body, switching his position as he did so. "Heh, he's as heavy a sleeper as you are."

"And what do you mean by that?" Dante questioned as he gently lifted a polished twelve-string acoustic guitar from the dusty case.

"It means that you two sleep like rocks," Lady answered bluntly, causing the one male demon slayer to laugh.

"You're right about that Lady," the elder slayer agreed as he pushed the cloth case to the side before sitting down on the edge of his desk the case originally occupied. "So are you going to tell me why you're here so early?"

"Okay Dante, I get the hint," the female slayer scoffed as she stood and traversed closer to the door. "If you didn't want me around you could have just asked me to leave."

"Hey, come on Lady," Dante called as she opened one of the doors. "I didn't mean it like that."

However before he could finish his sentence, the woman was already out the door and down the steps. Dante sighed heavily as he shook his head, muttering the word _women _under his breath in a low growl. Returning his attention back toward his twelve-string, he curled his left leg up on the desk, balancing the instrument over his quad muscle. He then slid the fingers of his left hand over the strings, lifting them every so often to produce a note without actually strumming. Dante listened closely as he picked out a few strings that he felt sounded off tune slightly, strumming the selected strings afterward. Once he declared that a few strings were actually off tune, he curled his fingers around one of the tuning knobs, twisting it while simultaneously plucking at the string.

"That sounds about right," he whispered to himself as he strummed a few notes, which eventually carried him into a brief song.

The pace of the song was slow, and the notes were soft, filling the rather large room with a calming melody. A soft smile spread onto the hunter's features as he kept rhythm with his right foot, tapping it against the hardwood floor. It had been quite a while since he had actually played any of the instruments he owned. Ever since the events in Fortuna City, he had just lost interest, even if Lady or Trish stopped by to listen to him play. On the off chance he actually did play, the concert would always be short. Another viable reason would be that a one-man band usually never holds anyone's interest for very long, and it just wasn't as much fun. Momentarily tearing his gaze away from the humming hollow guitar, Dante glanced over at the still slumbering Nero. In the entire time he was up followed by Lady's brief visit, the kid had yet to awaken, let alone move. He began to wonder if Nero was all right.

His suspicions were quickly stamped out once he noticed Nero lift his head and stare at the back corner of the room where a few amps and speakers were stacked. Dante's smile widened slightly at the kid's rather mussed hair. Groaning softly, Nero placed his head back down on the pillow before stretching his back and legs. Inhaling deeply afterward, the younger demon slayer opened his eyes as he swung his legs over the edge of the couch, repositioning his body into a seated position. Blinking a few times, he slowly rubbed his hands over his face, aiding in his process of waking up. By now the sound of someone softly strumming a guitar graced his ears, causing him to glance to his left.

"Well, good morning kid," Dante greeted, his smile morphing into a smirk. "Took you long enough to wake up."

Nero squinted his eyes as he stared at the elder demon slayer before raising his left hand along with his middle finger, flipping him off. The kid's vulgar gesture only caused Dante to laugh as he paused in his playing. With his message across to the other man, Nero stood up from the couch, his clothes a wrinkled mess. Yawning, he stretched his arms over his head, further elongating his body.

"Hey, you got a bathroom old man?" he questioned afterward, his demonic hand lightly scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah, go through the kitchen and it's the first door on the left," the elder blue-eyed man informed, pointing over his shoulder. "The light switch is also on the left of the door jam once you get in there."

"Thanks," Nero commented drowsily before dragging his feet back into the kitchen.

Dante sighed as he shook his head before returning to strumming his guitar. Picking a steady beat, he tapped his foot on the floor along with his created melody. Bobbing his head to keep count, he began strumming all twelve strings in a back and forth rhythm before repositioning his fingers to change the cadence of notes from lower to higher and back again with each strum. Meanwhile, Nero gazed at his reflection in the mirror once he finished relieving himself. From the looks of his hair, he could have guessed that he had a hard time adjusting to the leather couch. Either that, or he had one heck of a dream. He pursed his lips together as the sounds of Dante's acoustic guitar caused his ears to twitch slightly, adjusting to the muffled sound.

He then sighed heavily as he turned on both faucets over a stainless steel sink, the water splashing noisily in the reflective basin. Dipping his hands under the luke warm stream, he cupped his hands, collecting a pool of water in his joined palms. Once a small pool had formed, he quickly splashed the warm water onto his face, rubbing his palms over his skin afterward. The sensation was quite refreshing, rather than the usual shock he was used to whenever he splashed water on his face to wake himself up. Repeating the process two more times, he reached for a small hand towel, drying his dripping face after he located one. Hanging the small wash towel back onto the rack where he found it, he flushed the toilet before turning off the light and exiting the bathroom. Upon his exit, he was soon greeted with another song courtesy of Dante.

"You still at it old man?" Nero called as he opened the refrigerator, swiping a beer from the bottom rack before closing the door.

"Yeah, I figured I'd brush up on my playing skills," Dante remarked before pausing his playing.

"Heh, come on, you don't have any skills," the younger slayer joked as he popped open the cold can, greedily gulping down the bronze, bitter liquid.

"Well, then," the elder man retorted as he stood from his desk, pacing over to the double-hinged door. "Why don't you show me up then?"

"Oh I will old man," Nero proclaimed as he pushed open the door, coming face-to-face with Dante. "That's a promise."

"Alrighty then, pick your poison," the experienced hunter commented as he pointed over to his stash of instruments.

Nero glared at Dante before pushing past him roughly and confidently striding over to the instruments. His eyes first darted to a lone electric guitar, Gibson if he wasn't mistaken. The instrument was finely tuned, polished and well cared for, the crimson paint sparkling radiantly in the light. The second instrument to absorb his attention was a basic drum set complete with: two snare drums sitting above two massive bass drums, four rack toms on either side of the snares, and two floor toms, one stationed on either side of the symmetrical drum set. The cymbals that surrounded the complex instrument consisted of four medium rides, two large crashers on either side of the floor toms and two hi-hats to the player's left. The drum set looked brand new from how polished the crimson and black shaded shells were to how stiff the drumheads felt. A pair of drumsticks occupied one of the rack toms' surface, waiting patiently for the next opportunity to sound its vibrating beat and rhythm.

Nero scoffed as his gaze redirected to another lone instrument leaning against one of the bass drums. The object was a bass guitar; the telltale long neck practically grazing one of the medium rides that otherwise sheltered it. The five thick strings were tightly wound around their tuning knobs and ready to be plucked, emphasizing powerful undertones, which gave any song the extra power it needed to astonish rather than wow. As far as the actual face of the instrument was concerned, it was also very well cared for, the obsidian shade sparkling vibrantly in the sunlight. He sighed softly to himself as he glanced over all three instruments a few times over, wondering which instrument he should at least try in order to out perform Dante. The elder slayer meanwhile tapped his right foot on the floor impatiently. The kid was as choosy as a women shopping for clothes, and if he didn't pick something in the next few minutes, he would just forfeit the kid for stalling.

"Come on kid, make up your mind already!" Dante groaned as he placed his acoustic guitar down on his desk.

"Alright already!" Nero shouted over his shoulder as he walked over to the guitar and wrapped his fingers around its slim neck, lifting the instrument with ease. "I'll play this one."

"Very well," the elder blue-eyed man commented as he walked around behind the massive drum set. "Let's see if you can keep up kid."

Nero narrowed his eyes as he plugged his guitar into a wah-wah petal, which became a relay for a large amplifier. Flicking on the power, he quickly adjusted the volume, bass and treble knobs as Dante clacked together his sticks to provide a tempo and a countdown before he launching into three galloping cadences. Retrieving a random pick stationed atop the amp his guitar was connected to, he quickly strummed the guitar, unleashing a strong power chord in conjunction to the elder demon hunter slamming down on two rides, which vibrated the baseboards. Dante smirked as he began to play a slow tempo, to which the younger man followed. Nero grit his teeth as he recalled the melody his comrade was playing earlier, flawlessly adapting it to his instrument. The experienced hunter smirked as his slow tempo quickly escalated to a galloping beat his hands and feet moving simultaneously as Nero continued his original refrain. The younger slayer began to bob his head to the beat, varying the notes slightly with a few swift alterations via the whammy bar.

"Not bad kid," Dante acknowledged as he paused briefly, turning his stool around to face a small keyboard, gliding his dexterous fingers over the pristine keys as he continued the melody. "But it's not over yet!"

Nero managed a quick blink of surprise before his comrade switched back to the familiar pounding rhythm the song entitled. He however was far from being caught off-guard as he quickly and smoothly transitioned back into the song, his somewhat evenly spaced notes creating a counter balance for Dante's vicious and quick-paced beats. Upon nearing the end of the song, both musicians over-emphasized the last notes. Nero revved the whammy bar heavily, while Dante abused the large crashers. Both men sighed heavily following the high adrenaline song. The elder smiled and nodded at the younger slayer for a job well done.

"Great job kid," he complimented as Nero straightened his back. "Want to play another?"

"Sure," the younger silver-haired man agreed smiling.

Clacking his sticks together, Dante counted off a repetitious four count before beginning a steady cadence on the top snares and rack toms, his right hand counting out a steady metronome on the high-hats. The opening refrain allowed for Nero to change the sound the guitar output from the high shrill of an electric guitar to something more along the lines of a deeper, lower consistency. Bobbing his head to the beat, he strummed a quick succession of beats, which repeated for a few refrains, random note changes slowly becoming eminent as the song wore on. Eventually, Nero's pace matched Dante's faster cadence as he strummed in quicker intervals, his right hand sliding fluidly up and down the neck of the guitar. Eventually the rather repetitious song came to an end, with Dante and Nero matching note tempos before abruptly ending. They were so absorbed in their music, that they hadn't even noticed the door opening, emitting a short, plump character in a chauffeur's cap and old sports jacket, along with a pair of ripped and dirty jeans. The younger man narrowed his eyes before cocking his left eyebrow.

"Who the hell are you?" he questioned sternly.

"I would definitely ask you the same question pal," the portly man retorted, crossing his rather chubby arms in front of is chest.

"Enzo!" Dante greeted as he stood from behind his drum set. "Hey, how the fuck are ya buddy?"

"Dante, it's been a while," Enzo replied as he shook the other man's hand. "Staying out of trouble?"

"Of course not Enzo," the elder demon hunter answered as he leaned against his desk. "I should really ask you if you've been keeping out of trouble, especially with the law."

"Are you kidding me?" the shorter man retorted. "Of course I'm staying out of trouble. And frankly I think you should too, those demons could really get you in trouble one day ya know?"

"Eh, I don't think so," Dante scoffed as he waved the notion off. "Besides, if I do get into some serious scrap with a demon, there's nothing Ebony, Ivory and Rebellion can't settle, or lay waste to."

"You're always the first one to the battlefield aren't you?" Enzo questioned as he shook his head.

"Hell yeah!" the older silver-haired man commented smirking. "Besides you can't diplomatically reason with demons. Out there it's either kill or be killed, and so far those suckers have only one option."

Nero rolled his eyes as he set the guitar down next to the idle drum set before pushing open the kitchen door, retrieving his half-consumed can of beer. He then sighed heavily as he proceeded to finish the beverage. He always wondered why specific grown-ups always had to gossip and talk about pretty much nothing important. He hated it when people did that because they'd then stand in the spot they originally saw their acquaintance, friend or relative and proceed to talk for hours; women were always the worst as they'd take the longest to get on with their conversation. He never suspected that Dante would be as bad as a woman, but then again, the guy flirts like one. He sighed heavily as he finished his drink and headed toward the double-hinged door pausing once he heard his name a few times.

"So who's the kid?" Enzo questioned placing his hands onto his hips.

"Who Nero?" Dante answered tilting his head. "He's a fellow demon hunter from the faraway town of Fortuna."

"And what's he doing here?" the shorter man continued, his tone sounding a bit accusatory.

"He's trying to recruit me into this alliance Fortuna's monarchy had started in order to rebuild their town," the elder slayer informed, gesturing with his hands.

"Are you going to do it?" Enzo questioned curiously.

"Hell no," Dante retorted. "Like I told the kid, why would I join some alliance for an organization I fought so hard to destroy? It just doesn't make sense."

"Yeah, I'm with you there," the chubby man agreed, fixing the position of his hat. "Besides without you, this city would be fucked."

"That's for sure, so what did you want anyway?" the experienced hunter questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, I came here to offer you a job, duh," Enzo commented rolling his eyes. "You interested?"

"Does it require me chasing down another sadistic demon who wants to be named whilst drowning in an ocean of blood?" Dante questioned as he twirled one of the drumsticks he still held in his hands around the middle, index and ring fingers of his right hand.

"Eh, not really," the other man remarked, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

"Let me guess, you got into trouble again with a pack of demons and you need me to bail you out by killing them off right?!" the elder silver-haired man shouted, slamming his right fist down onto his desk, succeeding in snapping the drumstick, and startling both Enzo and Nero.

"Heh, sounds like fun," Nero commented as he pushed open the door, a smirk plastered onto his features.

"Were you listening to us kid?" Enzo questioned, a stern expression masking his otherwise nervous reaction.

"It's kind of hard not to overhear a conversation when your name is being mentioned a few times over," the younger silver-haired man retorted as he flexed the glowing claws of his right hand.

"Guh, you…your arm..!" the heavy-set man stuttered as he pointed a quivering finger at the boy.

"Don't ask, I've already got enough problems to worry about thank you very much," Nero spat, a prominent wrinkle creasing the bridge of his nose as his upper lip curled into a snarl.

"Enzo, this is Nero," Dante introduced. "It would be best not to piss him off, especially since he has a relatively short fuse anyway."

"Hey, I do not!" the younger slayer retorted, glaring at his comrade.

"Yeah you do," the elder hunter remarked before fixing his gaze on Enzo. "So Enzo, this job better be well worth my time and energy, otherwise I'm coming after your ass."

"Don't worry, you'll have plenty to keep you busy old friend," the chubby man commented nervously as Dante traversed over to the idle coat pole, retrieving his signature crimson overcoat before slinging it over his shoulder. "So who or what do I have to shake down, knock out, or blow up?"

"Just go to this address," Enzo informed as he quickly shoved a small folded parchment into Dante's gloved hands. "Once you finish the job, I'll have your pay forwarded to your account."

"This better be worth it buddy," Dante threatened as he latched his right hand onto Enzo's shirt collar, lifting him off of the floor with ease. "Otherwise it'll be your head I'll be after."

"S-sure thing D-Dante," the heavy-set man stammered as his body began to quiver.

The elder blue-eyed man merely scoffed before tossing Enzo onto the floor before slipping into his overcoat. Shrugging into the leather item of clothing, he glanced to his right, his gaze intercepting Nero's tense form.

"Hey, you coming?" Dante questioned as he tossed Nero his own overcoat.

"Sure," the younger man answered as he quickly slipped his arms into his jacket.

"Good luck guys," Enzo wished before high-tailing it out of the building.

…

As the sun slowly ascended to its highest point over the town of Fortuna, a shady figure draped in royal class clothes gazed upon the glimmering buildings of the civilization. A crooked smirk curled the man's lips as he stoically entered the city, preferring to avoid eye contact with any of the citizens.

"Excuse me sir," a voice called behind him, halting his progress. "Are you by any chance the demon slayer sent to join the Order from Caelic Village?"

"Why, yes I am," the hooded man proclaimed, turning to face the Order official. "But I am quite perplexed by this city's size, and have become rather confused. Would you mind showing me the way to headquarters?"

"Oh, most definitely good sir," the official answered. "Follow me."

"This is all too easy," he mumbled to himself as he followed the decorated official.

As he paced through the streets, the man began to acquire more and more glances, stares and double takes. The townspeople slowly began to gossip softly to themselves, debating whether or not this stranger was really here to help. The man growled low in his throat as his heightened hearing caught word of every conversation the people around him generated. He could have figured that he would be the center of attention when he arrived; his clothes were a significant approval of that idea. He then began to grind his teeth together; his glare boring holes into the official's armor covered back, mentally willing him to move faster. However, he was able to contain his growing anger long enough to reach the new Order's headquarters. His frown soon curled into a wicked smile as the pristine building dominated the landscape, instantly attracting anyone's attention that would glance in that direction.

Glancing around at his surroundings, the finely draped man observed the various statues of angels and demons alike lining a rather lengthy passageway that connected the town of Fortuna to the watchful eye of the Order. The rather narrow path soon widened to accommodate a spacious staircase, which led to a massive observation deck. The sinister man could only guess that the deck was used for ceremonies or routine drills. Standing atop the deck, the royally dressed man stopped to stare up at the massive building, its flawless design and position reflecting a slight glare from the overhead sun disk. On the face of the building, the renowned symbol of the organization was emblazoned, its majesty displayed for all to see. Shaking his head, he lengthened his stride considerably in order to catch up with the rather oblivious Order official.

"If all of these idiots are as oblivious as this one," the man whispered to himself, his crooked smile reclaiming his lips. "Then taking over this town will be child's play."

…

"So how are we to get there?" Nero questioned as he followed Dante out of the shop, tightening Red Queen's holster around his shoulder.

"By motorcycle of course," Dante answered twirling his key ring around his right index finger.

"You're driving then?" the younger man questioned, tightening a loose clamp on the ace bandage he quickly wrapped around his demonic arm, concealing the rest with his overcoat's sleeve.

"Unless you want to drive," the elder slayer offered, his smirk never leaving his features.

Nero rolled his eyes before quickly pacing over to Dante's motorcycle, straddling the vehicle before glancing over at his comrade. A light chuckle vibrated the elder man's vocal chords before he joined Nero on his bike, carefully swinging his right leg over the vehicle's leather seat afterward. Momentarily arching his back to sit upright on the bike, he reached into his jacket's left pocket, pulling out a pair of dark ovular sunglasses. Inspecting the lenses carefully, he smirked before slipping them over his eyes, leaning back over his bike in order to insert his keys into the ignition. Turning the keys a quarter turn clockwise, the engine roared to life, the various pipes vibrating strongly as exchanges of exhaust and cold air surged through them. The younger silver-haired man leaned back as Dante revved the engine a few times, thus causing the intense vibrations to calm slightly.

Pushing the kickstand up, the elder man carefully readjusted Rebellion on his back as he felt Nero carefully wrap his arms around his waist. After he revved the engine once more, he lifted his feet onto the chrome footrests before taking off down the road, weaving in and out of the steadily increasing traffic. Nero figured he'd just let Dante drive for two rather important reasons: one, he would save gas for his trip back home, and two, Dante knew where to go. Giving directions in a car was easy since the travelers didn't have to worry too much about distortion from the wind, or having to shout over the roar of the engine. He didn't exactly trust that Enzo guy either. For all he knew, this could be a trap and they would be heading straight for it. However, he seemed to greatly respect, or fear Dante, and from the reaction he gave when the elder hunter picked him up off of the ground by his collar, the younger man had little reason to doubt the actuality of this mission being a trap. Nero was able to gain a brief break from his thoughts as Dante slowed his motorcycle to a stop before a red light.

"How ya doing back there kid?" he questioned, the sunlight glinting off of his obsidian sunglasses.

"Fine, how far away is this place anyway?" Nero commented as a stream of cars passed in front of them.

"Not too far," Dante answered, arching his back slightly before removing his right hand, shaking it briefly afterward. "Damn vibrations, sometimes they're good, but in this case…not so much."

"Must you joke about everything?" the younger silver-haired man questioned stoically as the light changed to green.

"Actually yes," the elder slayer replied as he revved his vehicle's engine, surging forward down the road. "We should be careful on this mission though!"

"Why?!" Nero shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of the engine and the whipping wind.

"The place we are scheduled to investigate had been getting a lot of attention lately!" Dante informed, his voice carrying specifically well over the wind and engine. "A lot of people in the neighboring city have been reporting sightings of demons ranging from the size of a small house cat up to a towering thirty feet!"

"Thirty feet?!" the young man reiterated. "Where the hell are we going? A circus?!"

"Actually, it's an old abandoned mansion!" Dante corrected. "The place has been deserted for centuries! The original homeowners built the house with their own hands to be used as a safe-house for their family!"

"A safe-house?" Nero questioned, his grip tightening slightly as a particularly violent gust of wind assaulted his face, causing him to bury it in the back of the elder's overcoat.

"Yeah!" the elder man commented as he turned down a rather vacant road. "It's said that the homeowners were runaway fugitives of some overseas' religious sect! Fearing for the lives of their relatives, the family began to build a massive house with many rooms, passageways and corridors! Eventually the house drove the family crazy and they ended up killing themselves for fear of being caught! Ever since that day, the house had since been restored several times, and was even open to the public as sort of a museum! However, as time wore on, people who visited the old house had begun disappearing! Anyone who ventured into the house never came out!"

"And that is when all of these random demons started appearing right?!" the younger blue-eyed man questioned.

"Yeah! Some people claim that the original proprietors of the house were Satanists and worshipped the beings of the underworld!" Dante continued, slowing to a stop before another red light. "Therefore, a rumor then spread around the city explaining that hidden deep in one of the house's secret rooms is a portal to the underworld that had never been closed."

"Interesting," Nero commented, a smirk curling his lips.

"What I don't get is how the hell Enzo found this job," the elder hunter remarked as he stared intently at the blaring red light. "Normally, the guy never leaves the city."

"Then there must have been a flyer or a report or something…?" the younger slayer suggested, shrugging his shoulders afterward.

"Nah, more like, there was a bounty for the extermination of the demons coming from the old house," Dante corrected as the light turned green, prompting him to speed down the road. "And the sum of money was too great for him to pass up!"

"It seemed to me like you had an old score to settle with him!" Nero noted as the air began to grow slightly colder when they reached the city's limits.

"Eh, that guy always manages to find me jobs that will undoubtedly risk my life in the end!" the elder slayer corrected, his upper lip curling into a slight sneer. "And it's always either an extermination or finding a lost kid somewhere! However, his jobs pay well!"

"Well, let's just hope that this new job is worth what his undisclosed payout will be!" the younger silver-haired man concluded as he focused on staring at Rebellion's hilt.

"Amen to that kid!" Dante agreed as he revved the engine, thrusting the motorcycle forward.

…

"Right this way uh…" the decorated Order official directed, pausing once he realized he never asked for the other man's name.

"Salidar," the royally dressed man finished his amethyst eyes darting back and forth as he observed the massive board room, the panoramic view of the city instantly catching his attention. "Can you guarantee the leader of the Holy Knights will be available at this current time?"

"I shall go and check Mr. Salidar," the official replied before bowing and continuing down a rather long hallway.

Pursing his lips together momentarily, Salidar turned to visually absorb the entirety of the boardroom. Glancing down at the ovular table before him, he noted how pristine and flawless the surface of the object was. The familiar symbol of the Order was etched into the center of the table. However unlike the symbol on the face of the actual building, the symbol on the table was filled in with a crimson shade and outlined in obsidian. Momentarily distracting himself from the symbol, he then noted that before each chair situated around the table, there was a small place mat. The objects were a dull shade of gray, while their raised edges were a deep shade of black. The chairs were wooden, intricately carved to match the Order's ludicrous heaven and hell theme.

Frankly, he wasn't able to understand why humans were so attached to the whole idea of salvation through heaven, and condemnation through hell. In actuality, there is no such thing and a heaven or hell. There is only an underworld where everyone goes when they die to spend eternity, forever more fueling the planet's fiery core. The fact that parents forced such a ridiculous system of beliefs down their children's throats only served to further his anger. Even though he himself was a demon under the guise of a human, he could at least understand the futility of a mindless religion that orders its followers to perform various ceremonies, rites or rituals in order to earn their gods' praises. Shaking his head to clear his mind of the current argument, he briskly paced over toward the panoramic window, which provided a stunning bird's eye view of the town. From this height, he could see which sections of the town were new, which ones were being rebuilt, and which sections still lay in ruin. The fact that the Order's headquarters kept such a watchful eye over the town and its citizens caused a crooked smirk to claim Salidar's lips.

"Taking over his city will be simple," he mumbled to himself, clasping his hands behind his back. "And from this height and angle, I will have no problem instructing my army."

"Sorry for the wait," a strong voice apologized as its owner briskly entered the room, closing the doors afterward. "Nice to finally meet your acquaintance."

"Oh, no, the pleasure's all mine," Salidar commented as he turned to face the man who entered the room. "And who do I have the honor of meeting?"

"Angelo, captain and chief of the Order's Holy Knights," Angelo introduced as he clasped Salidar's right hand in both of his, adamantly shaking it afterward. "I was informed that your name is Salidar correct?"

"Yes, that is correct," the other man informed, clasping his hand behind his back once the Holy Knights captain released it.

"First allow me to thank you for joining our world-wide alliance," the decorated captain began as he joined Salidar by the window. "With your expertise in hunting demons, the Order can only grow stronger."

"Well, it is an honor to be able to serve in the first anti-demon army," the false demon hunter praised, a fake smile curling his wicked lips. "It must be hard though. Dealing with the strain of low numbers during these vulnerable times, wouldn't you agree?"

"Well, the agents we have assigned on recruiting missions are merely a small fraction of the Order's power," Angelo boasted, folding his arms over his chest. "We are still very well equipped to fighting off an invasion of demons."

"Don't be too sure captain," Salidar mumbled under his breath. "Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see if any demons are foolish enough to challenge the likes of the new Order."

"Right you are my good man," the Holy Knights captain commented clapping the demon slayer on his shoulder. "Well with formalities aside, you must be weary from your travels. Please, allow me to show you to your quarters."

Salidar nodded his head as Angelo turned and began to exit the room. The false hunter glanced back over his shoulder at the bustling town, the right corner of his lips curling into a demonic grin.

…

"Well, here we are," Dante informed as he coasted his motorcycle up to a rusting cast iron gate.

Nero squinted his eyes as he gazed up at the massive building. From the outside, the mansion looked just like a regular run of the mill, multi-room house. However, he couldn't shake the dizzying scents that permeated the atmosphere. He bowed his head before lightly shaking it to reawaken his senses from the spell they seemed to fall under, only succeeding in making it worse. A soft groan vibrated his throat as he leaned against his comrade's broad back, raking the glowing blue claws of his demonic arm through his silver lochs.

"Hey kid, you all right?" the elder slayer questioned once he felt Nero's headrest against his back.

"Yeah, just a little dizzy is all," Nero answered as he straightened his body, his senses finally sharpening.

"You can smell it too huh?" Dante stated as he pushed down the kickstand of his bike, turning off the engine afterward

"Smell what?" the younger man questioned, alighting from the bike.

"There's a lot more than just demons running around this place," the elder silver-haired man informed as he pulled Ivory from its holster, shooting the padlock on the gate before kicking open the cast iron gate. "Those walls are practically dripping with black magic. Whatever terrible event occurred in that place involved a lot of blood shed."

"So this really is a haunted house then huh?" Nero questioned as he watched the assaulted gate fall onto the overgrown lawn of the residence, the years of rust finally wearing down its once strong structure.

"Looks that way," Dante agreed as he confidently strode closer to the building, his younger comrade not far behind. "Nero, wait a minute."

"What is it?" the younger blue-eyed man questioned.

"I want you to listen to me. Do not, and I mean DO NOT trust your eyes in there," the elder slayer warned, Ebony and Ivory already clutched tightly in his hands. "Black magic is a very serious problem, even for demon slayers. There is a portal to the underworld somewhere in this building, however since the specters wandering the halls in this place are no doubt controlling its whereabouts you must listen for it. The portal will give off a very distinctive noise, and when you hear this noise, shoot in the direction it is coming from. It will be concealed from the visible spectrum human eyes can detect, so be careful. We must seal off the portal in order to appease the spirits and stop the demons from entering this world."

"Alright, I got ya," Nero agreed, pulling Blue Rose from its own holster. "Well what are we waiting for?"

"Heh, let's rock!" Dante finished before turning on his heel and kicking open the door, startling a pack of demons that were currently residing in the room.

Leaping fearlessly into the room, Dante and Nero charged the demons, firing round after round into their pulsating bodies. One adventitious demon leapt at Nero, its long snout open wide, bearing its long fangs readily. Growling low in his throat, the younger slayer reached out with his demonic hand, a larger, translucent copy of his arm shooting forth from his glowing hand before the pulsating claws wrapped mercilessly around the demon's neck. Lifting the creature into the air, Nero slammed the beast onto the ground a few times before tossing the lifeless demon at its comrades, succeeding in throwing them into a back wall. A confident smirk claimed the young man's lips as he spotted another pack of panther-like demons staring at him from a conjoining room.

"This is too easy!" Nero chimed as he revved Red Queen's propulsion system, surging into the other room afterward.

"No Nero wait!" Dante called, but was too late as the boy had already passed the threshold into the next room.

Grinning like a mad hatter, Nero barreled into the rather dark room, utilizing the Red Queen's Exceed system to power through the idle panther demons. As rippling flames surged forth to engulf the demons' bodies, the younger silver-haired man soon came to realize that the demons he thought he saw were mere illusions, as his blade sliced clean through their forms without even causing an ounce of damage. Quickly reacting to the thought of a possible trap, he leapt back toward his initial entry point, only to realize that the door he had charged through no longer existed. He broke out into a cold sweat as his heart rate began to escalate. Clutching onto the handle of his still glowing Red Queen, he utilized the pulsating light to further examine the room's interior. He wouldn't admit to the fact that he was scared of in-closed spaces. However, he couldn't help his body's reactions of being trapped in a foreign room with seemingly inanimate panther demons staring back at him with glowing red eyes, watching and following every move he made.

"Dante?!" he called, his voice cracking slightly to prove how nervous he was. "DANTE?!"

After his rather panicked calling of the elder demon slayer, the four inanimate forms of the demons shuddered. Glancing back at the demons, he noted their glowing eyes spark a resilient crimson before their stiff bodies gained mobility. Collectively, the panther demons focused their gazes on Nero before roaring at him. Shaking his head vigorously, the younger man stood his ground, a smirk soon claiming his lips.

"So I see you've finally come to play huh?" he taunted as he revved the Red Queen.

Meanwhile Dante quickly finished off the remaining demons in the first room before turning to inspect the wall where he last saw Nero surging through a door. Flattening his palms against the flaking and peeling wallpaper, he pressed his ear against the wall, checking for any sounds that would be vibrating along its surface or in the other room. Gritting his teeth in frustration after hearing naught a sound, he aimed Ebony and Ivory at the wall before firing off multiple rounds in rapid succession. The only result he managed to receive from the action was a now blistering wall. Concern began to knot his stomach as he turned and surged through another doorway, the insignificant portal transporting him into the dining room. He paused momentarily as he came across a gaggle of pulsating spirits. One by one, the specters turned their glowing eyes toward him.

The experienced hunter shook his head before shrugging his shoulders as he slowly became the center of attention. He announced a brief hello before aiming Ebony at the closest specter to his position, firing off a brazen round afterward. The specter fell back onto the floor, its disfigured jaw adjusting to the new position as an inky substance leaked from the wound the magic bullet inflicted. Angered by the aggressive assault on one of their own, the remaining horde surged toward Dante, their ghastly appearances distorting with their unrequited anger as their once soul-less glowing eyes morphed into glowing red slits. The elder silver-haired man smirked and shook his head as he dodged the attack and began firing off round after round of bullets practically decimating each enemy the objects came into contact with.

"Come on," he taunted coyly. "Is that all you've got?"

The specters began to screech noisily as they continued to pursue the rather rude intruder. Dante sighed heavily as his eager enemies kept right on his coat tails. His smirk soon morphed into a frustrated sneer as he was soon backed into a corner. Sweat began to drip down his chiseled features as the room's temperature drastically began to change. Along with the change, the walls and floor began to glow a bright yellowish-orange hue. An uncharacteristic chill raced down his spine as he open fired on the encroaching specters, charging for the door as he cleared a path. Diving out of the room, he breathed a sigh of relief as he welcomed the dramatic change in temperature. His own heightened senses however caused the welcomed relief to be cut short as the specters followed him into the joining room.

"Huh, these fuckers just don't know when to quit!" Dante growled as he broke into a sprint for the other side of the room, locating a long and rather narrow hallway upon exiting.

The hallway was lit by small candles, which lined the walls. The sapphire-blue-eyed man shook his head as an exasperated sigh escaped his lips. No matter how many demons he's tracked down and killed, nor how many _haunted _houses he's explored, they always seem to follow the classic cliché of ominous lighting via candles. Glancing back over his shoulder, he sighed in relief at noticing that the specters had stopped following him. However, he'd been in the business of demon hunting long enough to know that when one demon stops following you, another bigger demon is after you, and his assumptions were correct when his ears caught the distinct noise of something moving around the corner at the other end of the hallway. A soft chuckle resonated in his throat as he proceeded forward.

"You might as well come out," Dante called as he twirled his twin handguns around his trigger fingers. "I already know you're there!"

A gurgling hiss resonated from its charred vocal chords as the beast finally slinked into the light. It's disfigured features stared ominously back at the demon hunter as its patched head quivered with each movement, which appeared similar to an ungreased door dominated by rust. It's rag-doll like features twisted mischievously as its body slinked closer to his position. It's legs were long sickle-like appendages, which clinked on the ground every step it took. Squinting his eyes to better view the creature, a wide smirk soon claimed his pursed lips as a thought graced his subconscious.

"Nobody!" he called. "It's been ages! Boy, you sure haven't taken good care of yourself."

The beast roared before swiping one of its sickle legs at Dante's, however the hunter easily leapt out of the way, choosing to land on top of the creature before aiming Ebony at its head.

"Sorry pal, but I really don't feel like fighting you again," the hunter retorted as he fired off ten consecutive rounds before moving on.

…

Nero panted as he revved the Red Queen's Exceed system. The sword's sharpened blade sunk deep into the remaining panther demon's flesh, the beast screeching loudly before ignition fluid sprayed onto the blade, calling forth a roiling blaze afterward. The young demon slayer fell to his knees following the beast's demise. Ever since the battle had begun, the air in the room had grown steadily thicker. Each breath he inhaled, he felt his lungs burn, the air practically toxic to his own body. Groaning from exertion, Nero stood onto his quivering feet, swiping his left hand across his sweat-drenched forehead. He was a fool to think he could handle the house's denizens on his own, and now he was separated from Dante, his lifeline.

The image of the valiant man in red flashed through his mind as he slammed against a wall, using the structure as a prominent leaning post. His labored breathing had escalated to that of a person suffering from an asthma attack, each inhale nothing more than a strained wheeze. His eyes began to water as his fear overcame his senses. Was this really how he was to die? Would he not find a way out of the predicament he was thrown into? At the moment, he wasn't sure. He was still new to the world of black magic, and never really obtained the chance to further study it objectively because of the whole mess with the false Savior. He closed his eyes as a sporadic shiver coursed through his body. Was he to never again see Kyrie's smiling face, or his friends in the Order? Most importantly though, he dreaded the thought of never being able to see Dante again. In such a short amount of time, he had grown fond of the elder slayer, discovering a sort of father figure deep down.

"Dante…" he whispered as a solitary tear fell from his jaw line. "I'm sorry; I was too weak, too foolish, and too ambitious to see how important your aid was. And now because of my hotheaded behavior, we are at the mercy of this goddamned house. Please…if you can hear me…just know that….I'm going to miss you…"

Meanwhile in the upper level of the house, Dante paused his progress forward as a strong vibration coursed through his being.

"Nero…" he whispered as he glanced down at the floor beneath his feet.

Unsheathing Rebellion, he thrust the blade into the splintering floor, causing the vibrations to grow stronger. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he continued to assault the floor with his cherished sword, his heartbeat racing.

"Don't worry Nero, I'll save you," Dante growled as he grit his teeth kneeling before the small hole he created. "Just hang on."

Clenching his right hand into a tight fist, the elder demon slayer thrust his hand down into the hole succeeding in breaking through to the other room below him. The rush of foul air that assaulted his face upon the room's reveal practically knocked him back. However for the sake of the kid, he pursued through the overwhelming smell, pulling back the rotting boards as quickly as his quivering hands would allow.

"Nero!" he called as he ripped another section free from the floor, the aformentioned's weakening body slumped against the far wall. "Nero! Wake up!"

Unfortunately the younger slayer had been held captive in the room for far too long, and he ended up collapsing, his weakened senses barely registering Dante's voice. A soft groan vibrated Nero's vocal chords as his strained breathing halted any strenuous activity almost instantly.

"Da…nte.." he whispered as he glanced toward the room's ceiling.

"Kid!" the elder man called as he slipped into the room, landing with a thud onto the floor. "Kid…what…?"

"Dan…te.." Nero repeated weakly as his comrade lifted his limp body into his arms.

"The air in here is completely saturated by black magic," Dante whispered to himself as the younger man continued to weakly chant his name. "Even a full-blooded demon wouldn't be able to last long in here."

The elder blue-eyed man's body tensed considerably as loud banging noises resonated in the small room, the only comfort he had in the way of an escape was the gaping hole he made in the ceiling. However his relief was short-lived when the ground under his feet gave way to a narrow passageway leading several stories down into a dark pit.

"Rebellion!" Dante summoned, stretching his hand up toward the hole in the room's ceiling.

The crafted sword twitched before lifting into the air and shooting straight down the vertical passageway, obediently returning to its master. Reacting quickly, Dante sliced the blade into one of the passageway's walls, abruptly halting their descent. Panting from the adrenaline and the exertion, the elder silver-haired man clenched his gloved right hand around Rebellion's handle, while tightly clutching Nero in his left. He growled low in his throat as he sized up the situation they were now in.

"Well, this is just fantastic," he grumbled bitterly.


	3. Mission 3: A Trip Down Memory Lane

Hey fellow readers and reviewers. Thanks so much for your faves and comments. I really appreciate them and they help inspire me to write faster. This chapter seemed to take longer than I thought thanks to stupid college projects...but, it's up now finally, and I hope you enjoy it. :D As a head's up, there will be a reader favorite popping up in this chapter...however I'm not telling who! hahaha ^_^ You'll just have to read and find out.

....

"Are you sure about this?" Kyrie questioned a high-ranking knight. "How do we know these people are trustworthy?"

"Lady Kyrie," the knight addressed before bowing. "Rest assured, these people are fellow demon slayers whose only goal in life is to eradicate the vile vermin from the face of this planet."

"But what if one of them is a demon in disguise?" she retorted, her hands clutching to the small golden pendant around her neck for dear life. "The only ones who could know for sure would be either Nero or Credo, and they're both gone."

"Please Kyrie, do not worry," the solitary knight reassured. "If a demon would be so foolish as to imitate a human, our scanners would detect their presence almost immediately upon entry into the city. As for Nero, did he not say that he would be returning in a few days?"

"Yes, and I hope those few days of his absence are almost through," Kyrie sighed as she turned to face a large cathedral-sized window.

The decorated knight sighed heavily before wordlessly bowing to the honored sibling of the late captain of the Holy Knights. With Credo's death and Nero's recent assignment the woman had been on edge, aimlessly staring out of massive windows for long periods at a time. The young half demon was her support, and now that he was an "x"-amount of miles away, Kyrie was slowly beginning to fall apart at the seams. Following the fall of Sanctus and the false Savior, Kyrie had risen in the ranks of the Order from mere Songstress, to an honored and highly decorated Fortuna ambassador. Following her initial initiation into the Order's service, she along with two other ambassadors, journeyed to various cities around the world recruiting workers, trading stocks, and gaining valuable knowledge in order to aid Fortuna's resurrection.

Nero himself had also proved to be a valuable asset to the Order's rebirth. Following his success in destroying the false Savior, Nero was honored as a respected and courageous warrior and a noble hero. As the Order slowly began to rebuild, thanks to his diligent and loyal services, he steadily rose through the ranks of his peers. Nero had achieved the rank of lieutenant and strategist in the recent months, and his own brand of fighting style was adapted to the Order's training programs for new recruits. Eventually, he was offered the title of being the Order's new leader, however he turned it down in favor of carrying out missions and recon throughout the surrounding locations around the city. Despite his high rank, the half demon still preferred to work alone, explaining that he works best when he didn't always have to look over his shoulder wondering if his comrades were all right. In the case of his unofficial comrade Dante, he would only smile and shake his head, quoting that he hoped the _old man_ was fairing well on his own.

Kyrie glanced over her shoulder as the sound of heavy footfalls echoed in the rather small room. She watched as the knight she had been holding a conversation with excused himself and exited via one of the two massive doors that led into her and Nero's quarters. Inhaling deeply, she turned her attention back to the ornate window. Outside, the small town continued on rebuilding the fractured ruins of days long passed. However, the citizens could never really comprehend that the being they worshipped religiously was a demon. Good conscious or not, many people still believed that a demon was a demon, and that all were evil. Nero and Dante however tested the truth of the matter and ended up shattering that belief, allowing for the townspeople to regain fragments of their belief. While they no longer worship or praise the dark knight Sparda, they still hold his sacrifice to heart and honor him as a historical hero. Turning to neighboring cities, a mosaic of beliefs as well as building techniques slowly formed over the intricate streets of the city lost in time. Their newfound beliefs also gave rise to new and different churches, texts and deities.

Kyrie smiled warmly down upon the oblivious townsfolk as they continued forward with their daily lives. However, she couldn't shake the feeling that something horrible would soon befall the struggling civilization. She wasn't a strong believer in chance or fate, and she wasn't exactly going to start believing anytime soon. Everything in the world happens for a reason, it's never really predetermined by way of luck or probability. If something happens, then it was meant to happen, whether or not the originator conducted the event through malice or respite. In any case, she would just have to wait and see if her feelings were correct or not. Sighing softly, she glanced down upon the glimmering pendant. The soft red hue of the crystal wrapped in two pairs of angelic wings glistened beautifully in the sun's radiant light.

"Please come home soon Nero," she whispered as she gazed out over the barren horizon line.

…

"Here are your quarters Salidar," Angelo instructed as he opened a drab white door with the numbered 361 emblazoned in gold lettering upon its surface. "I hope that you will be most comfortable during your stay."

"I suppose this will do," Salidar commented as he casually strolled into the room.

The room itself was quite standard. Its immediate contents were: a full-size bed with crisp white sheets and two pillows, a small table in the far left corner of the room with two identical chairs, a desk, a dresser, a small nightstand to the bed's immediate left and a massive balcony. Glancing to his right, Salidar noted a partially opened door, which led into a small bathroom complete with: a shower, sink, toilet, towel rack, and a mirror stationed just above the sink. Angelo waited just outside of the door as his most honored guest surveyed his room. Pacing over to the desk, the false demon slayer slowly slid the pads of his fingers over the polished oak surface, the stain of the wood further deepening its natural qualities. He then glanced over at the bed, the immaculate sheets pulled tightly around the mattress's frame appearing to be quite uniform.

The nightstand was the next to absorb his attention, the black-stained cherry finish adding a rather sophisticated taste to the otherwise bland room. Atop the nightstand was a small reading lamp. Salidar stared at the object for a few moments before turning it on, the small lamp's light casting a mediocre glow against the wall it was stationed before and the polished surface of the nightstand. Pursing his lips together he turned the lamp off before inspecting the other side of the room. The first object to capture his attention was the row of shuttered doors. Wrapping the fingers of his right hand around one of the two sliding doors, he pulled it back, revealing the empty closet space it originally concealed.

"Is there anything else you require?" the captain questioned clasping his hands behind his back.

"No, I wish to be alone to collect my thoughts if you don't mind," the false demon slayer replied, rather curtly.

"As you wish," Angelo answered before bowing slightly and closing the door.

"Heh, so naïve," Salidar spat before traversing over to his small balcony, which overlooked a small portion of the city, the other portion was of the distant shoreline. "As are all of these people. Controlling them should prove quite simple."

A smirk curled his lips as he leaned against his balcony's railing, a brisk wind gently filtering through his obsidian lochs. For the sake of his undercover mission, he resigned to keep the rather uncomfortable royal garments on, despite the fact that they weren't exactly tailored to his physique. His interest in the castle town of Fortuna initially began once word of a secret hell gate lying dormant beneath the city spread. The city's monarchy-like Order of the Sword had done everything in their power to silence or quell the outbreak of information, but in the end, the whole world soon viewed Fortuna as a den for demons. This rather damaging reputation and image caused Fortuna's business to suffer, however it did wonders in the form of tourism. Many curious visitors flocked to the small city for the adventure and to experience the rich culture that seemed to permeate every square inch of the civilization. Salidar's momentary lapse in thought was soon interrupted when his small cell phone began to ring. Growling low in his throat at the rather annoying invention of the human world, he fished the object out of one of his pockets before answering it.

"What is it?" he grumbled into the receiver.

"My liege," the rather hushed voice of another scientist answered. "The others are beginning to stir."

"Keep them restrained," Salidar ordered sternly. "I don't care if you have to lock them into an underground bunker, I don't want those creatures escaping until I have the chance to inspect them! Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes my liege," the scientist stammered as various screeches and resonating coos sounded in the background. "And what of the first experiment?"

"Leave him be," he instructed. "I shall require his expertise soon enough."

"As you wish," the scientist answered before the line went dead, the call disconnected.

Clenching his jaw tightly, Salidar pulled the cell phone away from his ear before staring disapprovingly at the object.

"I don't even know why they gave this damned thing to me," he mumbled to himself as he constricted his grip.

Flexing his tense fingers around the rectangular object, he gazed out over the serene landscape, the sun's overhead illumination casting the scarred land below into a vibrant, picture-esque world of color. A slight sneer wrinkled the bridge of his nose as he relaxed his vice-like grip in favor of tossing his cell phone into the air a few times, the device repeatedly smacking against his hardened palm. Following the phone's previous descent into his hand, Salidar stilled his occupied extremity. He narrowed his gaze as he continued to blankly stare out across the blurred horizon line. His target, the last remaining tie to Sparda, was somewhere out beyond that thin, blurry line, and damn anyone or anything that would stand in his way of destroying said target. The mere thought of the last of Sparda's legacy still alive and breathing caused his blood to boil.

"Heh, Dante," he whispered venomously as he lowered his hand, which still clutched the cell phone, down by his side. "You are but half a world away, and yet I can still smell your blood; your vile, half demon, half human blood coursing through your veins this very moment. Huh, make no mistake…your blood will spill and your life will be claimed, swallowed up by the very demons you and your pathetic family have condemned!"

A crooked smile soon creased his lips as his fingers clenched around the phone once more before Salidar pulled his arm back. Swinging his other arm down at an angle, he whipped his cocked arm forward, relinquishing his death grip on the cell phone, succeeding in hurling the object into the air. The false demon slayer watched aimlessly as the cell phone flew out over the dense landscape before cascading down into the growing town below. He snorted before turning and entering the threshold of his room once more, closing the sliding glass door behind him.

…

Meanwhile in the deepest recesses of the demonic underworld, the serene form of a condemned being jerked into a rigid state, the remnants of a cursed dream dissipating as he opened his eyes. A pair of icy, crystalline blue orbs stared up at placid stalagmites, a constant reminder of how the world above was constantly baring down upon him. Groaning softly, he lifted his upper body into a seated position, the distribution of his weight causing his bed to dip slightly more. He then cleared his throat as he nonchalantly kicked off the crimson colored satin sheets, which had previously securely hugged his lithe frame. Alighting from the bed, his pale, unclothed feet contacted the warm floor beneath, causing a rather pleasurable warming sensation to snake up his legs and along his spine. A stifled yawn caused his mouth to open wide, stretching his jaw muscles in the process. While his yawn was in progress, he lazily stretched his long, muscular arms over his head, intertwining his long, dexterous fingers as he rotated his palms upward. A soft sigh of pleasure passed over his lips as his shoulder joints popped, the rounded balls of bone resetting their positions in their respective hollowed sockets.

Allowing for his arms to haphazardly fall back down to either side of his body, the condemned being paced over to a lavish cherry-wood dresser, the furniture's dark stain casting a deep crimson, almost black color. Lightly rubbing the sleep crystals from the corners of his eyes, the partially clothed man opened the second from the top drawer, rooting through its various contents before settling on a black tank top. He sighed as he snaked his arms through the open end of the fabric, easily sliding it over his head afterward. Closing the partially open drawer, he skipped down to the next drawer and opened it. Locating a pair of dark denim jeans, he cracked the fabric in the air twice before slipping his legs into their respective slots. The half-awake man then jerked the material up into place on his narrow hips before buttoning and zipping the loose pieces of fabric closed.

"Ah, you are up sire," a soft voice sounded as the slight figure of a young woman with light blue skin entered into the owner's room.

"Yes Danielle," the man answered. "How are things today?"

"Fairly normal," Danielle answered as her master politely passed her, placing his gloved hands onto her shoulders to reposition her out of his way. "The only problem this morning was a few wandering demons, but nothing the hounds couldn't take care of."

The condemned man lightly chewed on the soft wall of his inner left cheek, wandering into a lavish dining room before pacing over to an expansive window. Parting the curtains, he gazed out across the dismal horizon line; the ominous obsidian sky casting an emotion of dread and fear as a blood-red sun slowly rose over the horizon. The man clenched his jaw tightly, faint muscle lines protruding out from under the taut skin. Danielle scurried about behind his broad back, setting a place at the vast, luxurious table before two other maids carried out a selection of breakfast items.

"Danielle," the man called, his voice rather stern.

"Yes my liege?" she questioned, lightly jogging over to his side.

"I experienced a rather unpleasant dream last night," he explained, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Oh?" Danielle commented, baiting her master to reveal more information.

"No matter how hard I tried to push away this great beast, the foul creature continued to aimlessly assault me," the man continued, his gaze never faltering from the horizon. "In its eyes burned a fire of complete rage and fury, almost as if possible, the beast would destroy everything it came in contact with."

"How horrible," she replied, her features portraying an emotion of concern.

"However, I was not its target," he informed, reverting his gaze to fall upon the tiled floor. "It was after someone else, however I dared not to turn my gaze away from the creature for a mere second to see what it was after.. Strangely enough, I kept hearing the distinct sound of my twin brother's cries of anguish over the deafening roar of the black beast."

"Your twin brother?" Danielle questioned curiously, tilting her head to the left.

"Dante," the condemned man stated, setting his gaze upon the woman beside him. "He was in danger and I came to his rescue. The only thing I can't figure out is how, or even yet, why?"

"Perhaps it was a depiction of destiny?" she offered, causing the other to furrow his brow in thought.

"I'm not sure," he pondered, lightly rubbing his clean-shaven chin with his right index finger and thumb. "Not only that, but he's still among the living in the human realm. How am I to be able to cross over to that world, let alone find Dante?"

"Perhaps more of your dreams will reveal that information in due time," Danielle suggested as she bowed before wandering off to busy herself with housework.

The condemned man swallowed the forming lump in his throat before turning back to face the window and the ominous outside world of the demon realm. He wrinkled the bridge of his nose slightly from the thought of even assisting his brother in battle, now his dreams were informing him that he would one day save his brother whilst risking his own? He scoffed at the thought before lightly pinching the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he recalled various images from his dream. He only wished that he could somehow delve deeper into the vague meaning of his subconscious visions. Why was he protecting his brother from this horrid demon? Why was his brother even fighting a demon like that? Where did the demon come from? Why was Dante sobbing and crying out to him? All of these questions only served to create a small headache, which thrummed dully in his temples. He sighed heavily as he gently massaged his temples with both of his index and middle fingers on either hand.

"Well, worrying about this problem now won't really help me," he commented to himself, turning to face his breakfast. "At least not now anyway. But still, the idea of being able to pass unhindered through both realms without being summoned…hmm, interesting."

A sly smirk curled his thin lips as he briskly walked out of the dining room, leaving his breakfast behind. Turning down a rather long corridor, he soon found himself in front of a massive set of doors, which led into an expansive library. Pulling open one of the doors, the condemned man journeyed into the room, glancing over various shelves and volumes until his diligent fingers ran over a few thick volumes of encyclopedia-sized books. Pulling the chosen books from the shelf, he quickly strode over to a vacant desk and began flipping through them. Licking his fingers, he paged through the reference books quickly, his crystalline blue eyes quickly darting back and forth over the text, scanning the various characters displayed in plain printing ink. Upon discovering the article he was searching for, he narrowed his eyes slightly, diligently reading over the material.

"Ah, Master Vergil," the motherly voice of the appointed librarian greeted, two volumes of books precariously clutched in her slender arms. "So very good to see you again. Are you researching today?"

"Uh, no not this time Amelia," Vergil answered, marking his progress with his finger before glancing up at the middle-aged woman, her bespeckled eyes squinting slightly from the genuine smile splayed across her lips.

The older woman's graying hair was tied back into a tight bun with a few shorter strands draping down over her hairline. Her pale, white skin was a rather noticeable difference when compared to her deep chocolate brown eyes. Her heart-shaped face was dotted with many fading freckles, and a road map of various smile and worry lines, which displayed her age quite noticeably. Her current attire consisted of a floral patterned, knee-length dress, which added a bit of color to her otherwise milky-white skin. She also wore a pair of black suede shoes, further complimenting the black frames of her glasses. A small smile spread across Vergil's lips as he glanced up at her.

"I'm just looking for some spells or an explanation is all," he finished before turning back to his book.

"Well, if you need anything honey, don't be afraid to ask," Amelia commented before returning to her work of sorting and shelving books that were either returned or left out.

…

Dante sighed heavily as he glanced around at his surroundings, his rapid heartbeat thundering in his ears. Shaking his head a few times, he cast his gaze down toward the foreboding chasm that stretched as far as his eyes could detect. He glanced back up at Rebellion, which was still deeply embedded into the chute's rocky wall. He groaned from the burning sensation that began to plague his straining arms, his grip steadily weakening. Panting, he glanced down upon Nero, the kid was still unconscious and at the mercy of whatever may happen.

"Shit, shit, shit!" the elder demon slayer cursed as he wracked his brain for a solution to their current predicament. "Come on Dante think! There's gotta be a way out of this!"

He then glanced down upon Nero's relaxed features; his head lolled back from the position Dante haphazardly contained him in. The elder demon slayer ground his teeth together slightly before he began to gently nudge the younger man's face with his.

"Hey kid!" he called, gazing down upon him. "Time to wake up buddy! Otherwise, we'll be in some serious trouble!"

His calls and gestures went unnoticed as the enticing darkness of oblivion held the young demon slayer tightly within its grasp. Dante growled in annoyance as a sudden noise captured his attention. Glancing skyward, the elder man's eyes soon widened in disbelief as various flying demons stared down at the precariously perched slayers.

"Oh shit," Dante groaned as one of the demons screeched loudly, thus sending forth a whole flock of similar demons. "Kid, come on kid, wake the fuck up! Ack fuck, you bastards!"

The flying demons screeched noisily as they took turns pecking, clawing or prodding Dante and Nero with their razor sharp beaks and talons. Steadily, the elder demon slayer's grip weakened under the intensity of the flying demons' assault and the constant strain he had been forced to endure for both his and Nero's sakes. Clenching his fingers tightly around Rebellion's hilt, Dante grit his teeth and clamped his eyes shut as he continued to endure the torture the demonic birds dealt him. However with the combined weight of Nero, his weapons, and the elder slayer's own weapons and body weight, his grip began to slip again, his newly acquired wounds only serving to speed up his and the kid's demise.

"Aaahah!" Dante screamed as one of the birds raked its talons across his throat, blood gushing from the deep cut. "Aaah…ugh…fuck…"

His strength began to deplete rather quickly now as his vision blurred in and out of focus, his breathing reduced to shallow gasps. He was now hanging onto Rebellion by four quivering fingers, the digits slowly losing their grip even with his gloves on. The screeching of the birds began to fade away as he succumbed to unconsciousness. However, a deafening roar soon vibrated his torso, a deep crimson red energy enveloping his practically lifeless body afterward. The demonic birds began to squawk noisily amongst themselves at the new uprising of the pulsating energy. Fully awakened, Dante's inner demon opened its blood-red eyes, a ravenous roar surging forth from its taut throat.

"You…flying…nuisances!" the demon roared as it stared up at the masses of birds. "Go to hell!"

Following his command, the vibrant energy that had previously surrounded his being shot out in all directions, completely vaporizing anything it came in contact with. Any and all demonic birds were quickly swept up into the deadly aura's path and promptly erased from existence in a combined shriek of terror. Panting the crimson demon merely snorted before retreating back into the recesses of Dante's being. Groaning softly from the experience and the expense of energy, the elder demon slayer's grip failed him, thus sending the two unconscious demon slayers plummeting into the dark abyss below. Upon Dante's initial release of Rebellion's handle, the crafted sword recoiled, bouncing up and down before the dispelled energy caused its blade to break free from the wall's crevice. The blade glimmered in the fading light as it faithfully followed its master into the deep, dark pit.

…

Nero groaned softly as he finally came to. The throbbing cadence in his head caused him to curl his fingers tightly in his hair, somewhat easing the pain. Upon opening his eyes, the only thing to greet him was utter darkness. Blinking a few times, his sensitive eyes searched for something, anything that could possibly be used as a light source, no matter how dim it may be. He then glanced down at his demonic arm, which began to glow vibrantly, filling the small area around him with a faint neon blue hue. He shuddered slightly from the strong smell that then began to assault his nostrils. Snorting a few times, Nero eventually flared his nostrils as he inhaled, pursing his lips together as he pushed past the minor inconvenience. Utilizing his arm as a beacon, he began to search the floor around him for anything: his Red Queen, his Blue Rose or Dante.

"Dante!" Nero called as he continued to search for the elder man. "Dante? Where are you?"

It felt like an eternity later when he finally caught sight of something reflecting the soft neon glow. A smile spread onto his face as he crawled closer to the object, almost instantly recognizing the weapon commonly used by the elder demon slayer. However, his smile quickly faded as a drenched crimson fabric emerged into the blue light as he drew closer. Nero called the elder's name once again as he slowly advanced upon him. The fact that the other slayer didn't respond to his calls, let alone move, sent a chill racing down his spine. Once Dante's body had fully emerged into the light, so did a rather large puddle of blood. Nero's face paled about two shades as he glanced upon the other slayer's motionless body. Dante was partially on his stomach, his arms splayed haphazardly above his head, which was also generating its own pool of blood, staining the elder's otherwise immaculate silver lochs a pale crimson. Tears began to well up in the younger slayer's eyes as he continued to visually absorb his comrade's condition.

His trademark crimson overcoat was practically torn to shreds, with many of the tears and rips leading directly down into his flesh. Gingerly, Nero wrapped the fingers of his left hand around Dante's left arm, pulling him onto his back. Upon doing so, he turned his head as waves of nausea crashed full force into him. He began to retch and eventually he vomited onto the floor, hot saltine tears now cascading freely down his flushed cheeks. The first thing to catch Nero's attention was the deep gash in Dante's neck, nearly every inch of skin beneath the thin line was painted red. His torso was also a patchwork of various cuts, gashes, puncture wounds and tears. Fully emptying the contents of his stomach onto the floor, the younger man turned his gaze back to rest upon his comrade's massacred body.

"Dante…" he whispered as he practically threw himself down upon the elder man. "I'm sorry…this is all my fault! Please, you can't be dead Dante! Please open your eyes, we have to keep going!"

Nero glanced up at Dante's pale features before brushing away a few loose strands of hair out of his closed eyes.

"Come on Dante…" Nero pleaded as he fisted the remains of the elder slayer's overcoat in his hands. "You're stronger than this…I know you can overcome this! Come on, please just open your eyes!"

As time passed, the younger man began to believe that his efforts were futile. A choked shudder coursed through his body as he laid his head against Dante's chest, his remaining tears dripping off of his nose onto the torn leather, eventually channeling into a few of the wounds themselves. Glancing up toward the ghastly wound on his neck, Nero noted that it was still weeping blood. Sniffling lightly, he gripped the hem of his tank top tightly before tearing off a thick strip. Carefully lifting the elder slayer's head off of the concrete floor, he slipped the strip of fabric around his neck, tying the loose ends together to create a makeshift bandage. Nero furrowed his brow as he gazed down upon the pitiful bandage. He knew the fabric strip wouldn't save Dante's life, but it at least gave him some peace of mind knowing that he tried to help his elder friend, even if he was already gone by the time he found him.

He sighed heavily as he plopped back down on his rear end, his back partially facing the elder's still motionless body. Nero allowed for a few more sobs to wrack his body before he lifted his head to stare into the inky blackness of the room, his eyes soon catching a glint off of Rebellion's blade. Swallowing past the rather large lump in his throat, he crawled over to the sword, carefully wrenching it out of the floor. He then walked back toward Dante on his knees, the elder slayer's precious sword pressed tightly against the younger slayer's chest. A soft sigh passed over Nero's lips as he gently laid Rebellion across Dante's chest, the blade's point angled down by his feet.

"Even if I don't believe in an afterlife," the younger man began softly as he crossed Dante's arms over the sword's hilt. "Every warrior still deserves to die with his weapon."

He briefly glanced away before he checked over his own person, relieved that Red Queen was still slung snugly across his back, however Blue Rose was not in its holster. Nero groaned a sigh of annoyance as he searched the cold, hard floor for his second precious weapon. Upon finally locating it, he twirled it once around his trigger finger before slipping it into its respective holster. Then a brilliant flash of crimson light emerged from Rebellion, causing Nero to practically jump out of his skin. Turning back to gaze upon the resilient light, he noted that vibrant orbs of energy began to descend upon Dante's motionless body enveloping him in a blinding flash. Shielding his eyes, Nero curled his fingers in the air before glancing back toward his fallen comrade. His jaw practically fell onto the floor as he witnessed Dante move his arms and legs simultaneously. A soft and strangled groan escaped the elder's vocal chords as he opened his eyes. Squinting his eyes, another soft moan escaped his throat as he lightly encircled his right hand around his throat, a moist, sticky cloth registering against the pads of his fingers.

"What the?" he rasped, his voice barely reaching the decibel level of a whisper. "What the hell happened to my voice?"

"Dante!" Nero cried as he practically launched his body toward the elder's.

The elder slayer barely had enough time to glance up before a rather heavy twenty-seven-year-old slammed into his throbbing body.

"Dante! You're alive!" the younger man rejoiced as he wrapped the other slayer in a tight embrace.

"Kid!" Dante called, his voice cracking horribly. "Knock it off! I'm injured like crazy here!"

"Oh, sorry," Nero apologized as he peeled away from Dante, whom sighed heavily afterward.

"So where the hell are we anyway?" the elder slayer questioned as he glanced around at his rather dim surroundings.

"Believe me, if I knew I would have told you," the younger man commented as he sat back on his heels.

Dante scoffed before he wiped excess blood off of his face, succeeding in only smearing it down his chiseled features. He wrinkled the bridge of his nose as he threaded his fingers through his hair, discovering that the strands were practically glued together by drying blood. He sighed heavily as he leaned back on his hands, turning his gaze toward Nero who was preoccupied with staring holes into the ground. A brief glimmer on his left cheek soon gained the elder man's attention, furrowing his brow as he gazed at the boy. Glancing up at Dante from the floor, he soon noticed the elder man was staring at him; therefore he gazed back into his sapphire blue eyes, his brow gaining a deep furrow.

"What?" he questioned, his gaze redirecting several times between the floor and Dante.

"Were you crying?" Dante questioned, his voice slowly gaining back some of its original clarity.

"What! Oh, no, I just got something in my eye is all," Nero replied quickly, turning his head to hide a soft blush, which burned his cheeks.

"Heh, come on kid," the elder demon hunter rasped, shaking his head ever so slightly as not to agitate the already severed skin. "I've heard that excuse so many times already that I'm sick of it. Besides, we're both stuck in an underground dungeon far away from anyone that could possibly give a shit, and as far as I'm concerned, I don't really care if you cry or not."

"Well thank you for stating the obvious captain," the younger man retorted as he stood. "Anyway, we should probably keep moving. I have a feeling that whatever could be down here has already scented your blood and is hell-bent on finding the source."

"Hold on, give me a minute kid," Dante commented as he closed his eyes, concentrating his energy.

Nero rolled his eyes as he glanced down upon his comrade, a soft red hue enveloping his being. The elder demon slayer sighed before inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly through his mouth afterward. The younger demon slayer grew impatient, tapping his right foot on the ground before shifting his weight onto his other foot. Dante slowly inclined his head, as a white-hot light radiated around the deep gash in his throat. Nero furrowed his brow as the same resilient light emerged in random spots all along the elder man's body. However, his eyes soon widened in amazement as the gaping wounds slowly began to close and heal. The glowing sliver of light around his neck remained the longest, as his inner demon worked diligently to heal the life-threatening wound. After several minutes, the light finally disappeared, and the glowing red aura surrounding Dante dissipated into the stale atmosphere. He inhaled deeply once more before slowly exhaling out of his mouth, opening his eyes afterward.

"Wh-how..? Wha…?" Nero stuttered as he continued to stare at Dante as he rose to his feet. "How'd you do that?"

"I'm part demon," the elder slayer answered as he pulled the blood soaked strip of fabric off from around his neck, revealing a flawlessly healed stretch of skin underneath. "Demons always heal faster than humans."

"But…but that was just amazing!" the younger man exclaimed as he followed after his comrade whom held Rebellion tightly clenched in his right hand.

"You're still new to your demon, therefore you probably don't know how to tap into its hidden potential yet," Dante explained, lifting his rather heavy blade to rest upon his right shoulder. "But don't worry, in due time, you'll be able to heal wounds in the blink of an eye."

"Neat, I can't wait to discover that power," Nero commented as he cautiously glanced behind him, double-checking to make sure nothing was following them.

"Well, don't get yourself worked up," the elder replied, a sly smirk claiming his lips. "It took me years to perfect it."

"You never know," the young demon slayer quipped coyly, inclining his head over Dante's left shoulder. "I might surprise you."

Dante softly laughed to himself as Nero placed his chin down upon his clothed shoulder; glancing up at the elder's face through his long, silver bangs. A childish grin curled Nero's lips as he waited for a reaction from his comrade. A crooked grin slowly spread across Dante's lips as they continued to walk through a rather confusing labyrinth of decomposing brick walls. Eventually when they came to a dead end, the elder demon slayer sighed heavily before redirecting his gaze to fall upon Nero's crystalline blue eyes. An innocent grin replaced the young man's previous smirk, the change causing Dante to laugh once more before proceeding to shake his head.

"What in the world are you doing?" he questioned, turning to fully face Nero.

"Annoying you," Nero answered, clasping his hands behind his back before tilting his head to the right.

"Ugh, kid," Dante sighed heavily as he pushed past him to retrace his steps. "You wear me out sometimes."

"But that's what I do best!" the younger man called before jogging after his comrade.

…

Salidar sighed in annoyance as he gazed out over the landscape high atop the Order's headquarters building. Even though the view from his balcony was quite spectacular, the expansive image that greeted him on the building's rooftop was enough to awe and amaze. The wind was a lot stronger at that altitude, but at the moment, he didn't really care. The only thing he focused his energy on was major landmarks, buildings or areas that would create a great deal of widespread panic without requiring an army to cause it. The strong wind twisted his hair and whipped past his ears rather loudly, causing the false demon hunter to growl low in his throat. He couldn't help the wind, no one could, but it was beginning to become a real nuisance.

"Heh, no matter," he whispered to himself as he continued to stare out at the slowly setting sun. "By this time tomorrow, the wind will whisk away billowing clouds of smoke and debris instead of leaves and loose newspapers."

"_Master,_" an airy voice addressed telepathically, the owner hissing shortly afterward. "_I grow impatient. Tell me where our target is so I can tear the civilization to shreds_!"

"Patience Mortar," Salidar commanded, as he silently communicated with the experiment. "You shall have your turn in the spotlight."

"_But not soon enough_!" Mortar growled, its sinewy body perched high atop one of the laboratory's radio spires absorbing the electromagnetic waves and frequencies in order to calm its nerves._ "You promised me great things master. For your sake, you had better not keep me waiting much longer._"

"You forget your place Mortar," the false demon slayer threatened. "Do not forget whom it was that brought you into this world."

"_Ah yes, and he's dead now,_" the creature replied, a sinister grin causing its scaly lips to peel away from its ravenous teeth. "_He was quite delectable._"

"Begin your journey tonight," Salidar informed. "Are the others awake?"

"_Yes, all four are ready and waiting as impatient as I am,_" Mortar answered.

"Four?" the demon in disguise questioned furrowing his brow.

"_One experiment formed as twins,_" the experiment explained, narrowing its rhombus-shaped eyes. "_However, they look, move, and act like a mirror image of each other._"

"Hmm, that will definitely become quite a convenience later on," Salidar commented, a wicked smirk curling his lips. "Very well then. Rally your reinforcements; I want you all destroying this city by daybreak."

"_As you wish,_" Mortar replied pausing for effect. "_Master._"

As the telekinetic transmission cut off, Mortar gazed down upon the fenced-in grounds of the research facility. If there's anything the mutated experiment hated more than people was being confined into a small space. It believed that the sky was the limit and then some. It should be free to cause as much destruction as inhumanly possible, stopping not even when the last human on earth was dead. Mortar hissed in disgust of the man-made barrier before flexing its tail a few times. The bony appendage waved back and forth in a motion comparable to an aimlessly swinging pendulum, a roadmap of tendons contorting and stretching with each swing the object made.

A loud explosion followed by various roars, screeches, screams and cries rang out into the otherwise silent atmosphere as alarm sirens began to sound. Mortar glanced down upon the research facility as another explosion blew out one of the exterior walls emitting four similarly colored forms. The first one to emerge was a large winged bird. Overjoyed to finally be able to fully stretch its massive wings, the demon-like bird beat the immense appendages rapidly in order to gain altitude. Turning its head skyward, it unleashed a supersonic cry, which caused the very clouds to part and thunder to rumble high in the atmosphere. Mortar watched idly as the bird circled high above the facility before diving down to perch itself on one of the vacant radio towers.

The next creature to escape the facility was a canine-like creature with a multitude of spikes jutting from its back. Its parallelogram shaped eyes narrowed considerably before it inclined its head, unleashing a ravenous howl that fractured the very ground it stood upon. As the pitch and frequency of its howl increased, sparks of static electricity crackled on its back. Peeling its lips away from a set of razor sharp teeth, a sinister snarl tore through its vibrating vocal chords, calling forth bolts of concentrated electricity to crash down from the heavens, the bolts puncturing deep depressions in the already shattered ground. Shaking the excess debris from its streamline coat, the canine glanced skyward, fixating its glowing orange eyes on Mortar.

The final creatures to emerge from the facility shot through from underground, twin dorsal fins slicing through the fractured earth. The canine creature barked loudly at the fins, causing the two creatures to circle around it. A high pitched whine vibrated from under the surface before two serpent-like creatures rose above the dirt, rebounding out of the ground like a fish jumping out of water. Their largely elongated heads formed a crisp wedge, this design no doubt assisting in slicing through the ground with superb ease. Their streamline bodies were decorated with various razor edges; their actual sinewy arms were very finely crafted blades. On their backs were dorsal blades, which were only complemented by flexible sword-like tails. The only part that seemed out of place on the creatures were their legs, which were very thin appendages filled to the max with lean, quick-twitch muscles. The rather long legs ended with three-toed feet, which were capped off by sharpened steel claws. One beast opened its small jaw wide enough to roar at the canine creature before its contrastingly colored twin landed by its side.

"_That's enough!_" Mortar shouted via a resonating roar, which shook the very foundation of the building it was perched atop. "_Settle down and save your energy._"

"_Why should we?_" the jittering canine creature questioned, electricity crackling along its rather rigid back spikes.

"_We finally have a mission of destruction_," the raptor-like creature informed, causing the bird-like demon to squawk.

"_How exciting_!" the bird quipped, flapping its wings readily. "_When and where do we start_?"

"_Our master has summoned us to the town of Fortuna_," Mortar explained, straightening its back. "_We are to leave immediately._"

"_Finally,_" one of the blade twins commented.

"_Some action,_" the other twin finished before smirking.

"_But wait a minute!_" the canine beast roared, barking up at Mortar. "_Why the hell do you get a name and not us_?"

"_If you are so concerned about such petty details,_" Mortar began as it gracefully leapt from its perch. "_Then create one for yourself._"

"_Fine by me_!" the bird demon squawked as it took flight. "_Just call me _Sonar."

"_Then my name shall be _Fuse!" the canine demon proclaimed proudly, puffing out its obsidian chest arrogantly.

"_Razor…_" the obsidian colored twin began.

"_Edge,_" the ivory colored twin finished, clashing arm blades with its counter-part.

"_Then it's settled,_" Mortar finalized before turning to face the setting sun. "_Let's move out_!"

The experiments howled in unison before following after their newfound leader.

…

Nero sighed heavily as he obediently followed Dante further into the underground labyrinth's trap. They had been aimlessly wandering around the dark tunnels for hours and still no sign of an exit or enemies. The younger demon slayer usually hated tension, the very hesitation of the enemy causing a chill to rapidly course down his spine.

"Hey, Dante?" Nero questioned, lightly tapping the elder slayer on his right shoulder. "We're not lost are we?"

"Nah, there's just a lot of tunnels and dead ends is all," Dante reassured as they turned another corner.

"I feel like we're going in circles," the younger man commented, nervously rubbing his forearms.

"If we were going in circles, we'd actually be walking in a rounded path," the elder man quipped, a smirk curling his lips. "The correct terminology would be, we are walking in squares and rectangles."

"You are such a moron," Nero dejected shaking his head slightly.

"Eh, I'm just trying to lighten the mood," Dante replied shrugging his shoulders. "All this mold is depressing me."

"The mold growing in _Devil May Cry_ doesn't seem to depress you," the younger slayer commented, raising his left eyebrow.

"Well that mold is homely, and I've grown used to it," the experienced hunter answered, causing Nero to sigh and throw his hands in the air in defeat.

"Whatever old man," he retorted. "You're still the strangest guy I've ever met."

"Why thank you," Dante responded as he stopped before another dead end.

"Great, another dead end," Nero spat before plopping down on the floor. "Let's face it, we'll never get out of here."

"Hey, don't say that kid," the elder man cooed before joining him on the floor, Rebellion's tip scraping slightly against the eroding stone. "We'll get out of here."

"Oh yeah? How?" the younger hunter retorted before pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

Dante sighed heavily as he leaned against a lichen-covered wall. Pulling Ebony and Ivory from their respective holsters, the experienced hunter began to inspect them. Clicking the safeties into place, he then began to carefully disassemble the weapons, checking over every minute detail before cleaning the pieces. The slight commotion soon attracted Nero's attention. He couldn't really understand how Dante could meticulously disassemble his guns in a pitch-black corridor, therefore he slightly lifted his right arm, perching it atop his right leg. The soft glow of his demonic arm allowed for a small amount of light to be cast over the elder's work, the twin guns' parts glinting in the light. Pausing momentarily from his work, Dante glanced over at Nero who continued to stare at Ebony and Ivory.

"Thanks kid," he commented before setting to work on reassembling the weapons.

"Don't mention it," Nero whispered before laying his head against his left forearm.

"Hey Nero," Dante called as he finished assembling Ebony. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

"What?" the younger slayer questioned, lifting his head to glance at the other's momentarily distracted eyes.

"Why exactly were you crying back in that dungeon?" the experienced hunter questioned as he set to work on reassembling Ivory.

"Oh...well…" Nero began, his eyes quickly darting to the floor as he searched for an answer. "Well, you see…"

"Was it because you thought I was dead?" Dante questioned again, clicking the remaining pieces back into place.

"I…yes," he answered before sighing heavily. "After I saw how much blood you were actually lying in…and that wound on your throat…I guess I jumped to conclusions."

"It's okay kid," the elder slayer replied, slinging his left arm around Nero's shoulders. "You don't have to be ashamed of it."

"But crying over others is something that only the weak do!" Nero defended, fearing that he was losing an ongoing battle against his emotions. "It's my job to stand strong in the face of death, fear and destruction. If I give in to my human emotions…I lose."

"Who told you that?" Dante questioned as he glanced down at the younger man next to him.

"It's just something I've come to believe after…well," the slighter hunter paused, lightly rubbing the underside of his nose.

"What?" the elder man prodded, hoping that Nero could confide in him enough to be comfortable opening up to him. "You can tell me anything Nero. I won't tell anyone else, I promise."

"Well, I've been an orphan since I can remember," Nero informed, leaning against the wall behind him. "I never really knew my parents, however I did manage to find out more about them once I became a knight in the Order. It turns out that I'm not from Fortuna at all. Part of my family originated in some far away place that goes by the name of Formica Village. My mother was a native of an ancient race of people known as the Galucians. This race of people had managed to survive throughout the ages untouched by modern warfare or technologies."

The young man paused momentarily to glance up at Dante who was intently absorbed into his story. The attention of the other slayer was quite comforting, even though it was rather awkward to retell his family's history to someone six years ago he was ordered to kill. Sighing softly, he shook his head before continuing.

"However, one day, there was a group of explorers who happened to stumble across one of our people's villages," Nero continued. "The leader of the exploration was my father. He met and befriended the people of that village, and eventually came to love one of their maidens. They both fell in love and ended up eloping, traveling the world as they saw fit. However, one day my parents were attacked by a gang of demons. My father instructed my mother to flee, and at the time, she was already seven months pregnant with me."

"Did your father manage to escape?" the elder man questioned.

"No," the younger slayer answered softly. "His body was later recovered in a damp cave in the outskirts of Concade City. My mother meanwhile had fled back to her village, only to find it completely in ruin from a recent attack by a private militia from the faraway town of Fortuna. My mother was later captured by scouts and brought back to the castle town. The combined stress and anxiety she had involuntarily suffered caused her to go into labor two months early. I was born in the very bowels of the Order's sterile laboratories. However, shortly after my birth, my mother passed away from complications during the procedure. I guess the Order felt sorry for me and took me in as an orphan. I was cared for by many different people, however I never really made any friends during my childhood because of my strange hair color and abnormally pale skin. Many people thought I had some kind of disease, and therefore kept their distance."

Dante remained silent as he mentally absorbed the information Nero had presented him. His whole life had been a tragedy and he didn't even know it. The kid had gone through life facing rejection left and right because of who he was. And to top it off, he was born prematurely, and never had the opportunity to really know whom his parents even were. The only things he knew about them were compliments of text files on a computer's network. Sure he himself had gone through quite a childhood of ups and downs, but at least he had a family. He could at least remember what his parents and brother looked like. Nero had no one to call family, save for Kyrie.

"What about that girl, Kyrie, and Credo?" Dante questioned. "How do they fit in?"

"They are my quote, unquote, _adoptive family_," Nero answered. "I met Kyrie when I was about seven or so. She was the first person who refrained from judging me by my appearance. In fact, she even offered me some of her ice cream one day. Credo, on the other hand, was a bit suspicious of me, but he eventually warmed up to me and treated me as a valued little brother. He taught me how to fight, he protected me, he did everything a normal big brother would do for a younger sibling, and he gave me someone to look up to."

"Wow kid," the elder slayer mused as he leaned his head back against the wall. "I never really thought you had to go through so much shit as a youngster. If I would have known that I probably might not have been so hard on you."

"Eh, I probably would have questioned you as to why you were going easy on me," the young man replied smiling. "You gave me a run for my money that's for sure."

"Heh, glad to be of service," Dante chided as he playfully ruffled Nero's hair.

"So now that I told you about me, let's hear about your story," Nero prodded as he lightly poked the elder hunter in his side.

"Well, okay," he responded as he wracked his brain for his family's history. "Well, I guess it would be fair to say that my old man is actually the legendary Dark Warrior Sparda."

"No way!" the younger man exclaimed, slightly pulling away from his comrade.

"Yes, way," Dante commented, a smile curling his lips. "Well, I guess my family history began about oh, two thousand years ago, when my father was a high ranking official, serving under the Dark Lord Mundus. For years he had unquestioningly served Mundus's wishes, destroying anything and everything that would cross the Dark Lord's judgment. However, one day he had a change of heart. I'm really not sure how or why he decided to rebel against the very demon he obediently served for years. I'm guessing that when he experienced his change of heart, he met my mother Eva."

"Is that the woman whom you have a picture of on your desk?" Nero questioned.

"Yeah actually," the elder hunter answered. "My mom was supposedly one of the most beautiful women to grace the human world. However, what really won over my father's otherwise incorruptible heart was her sincerity, and her kindness. According to one of my father's journals, she was the only human who ever treated him as an individual instead of a demon. Anyway, Mundus had eventually discovered the forbidden unity between a demon and a human and had thus ordered for Sparda's capture and the destruction of the human world. By this time, Sparda and Eva were planning a family and a wedding when the demon hordes amassed and attacked the human world."

Dante paused briefly as deft screams rang in his ears from a battle he hadn't even been alive to witness. He lightly shook his head to clear his sense of hearing from the imagined memory. He then glanced to his left to notice Nero initially as absorbed in his story as he was the kid's.

"Well, during the demon outbreak, my father dutifully protected my mother from the attacks before they discovered the source of the demon horde," the experienced hunter continued. "At the time, my mother was pregnant with me and Vergil, I'm guessing about six or so months. With Yamato in one hand and his own massive sword in the other, Sparda instructed my mom to run as fast and as far away from the small town as she could get. Heartbroken by the turn of events, she dutifully obeyed my father and fled, but not before he entrusted to her two identical pendants. With one final good-bye kiss, she fled and he stayed to fight. My old man had managed to seal off the demon world from the human world, but at the cost of his very life. Wracked with grief from her lover's death and shunned by others for her involvement with a demon, my mother spent the rest of her life as an outcast, barely managing to support her children let alone herself."

"So I'm guessing the town in which Sparda sealed off the two worlds was Fortuna?" Nero questioned.

"Yeah, and he used Yamato as the seal," Dante answered. "However in order for the seal to be effective, he had to leave it in the human world as the proverbial key to the lock."

"Wow, it's amazing how one sword can stop a whole world of demons," the younger slayer mused. "But anyway, continue."

"Heh, okay," the elder man chuckled before picking up where he left off. "As you can probably guess, my mother had gone into labor not too long after her and Sparda's departure from each other. Since she was viewed as a traitor and abomination to the human race, she wouldn't be able to seek out medical help for the delivery. I'm not sure how she managed it, but she was able to have me and Vergil without any problems, knock on wood. From that day forth, she vowed to Sparda, wherever he was, that she would raise and protect their children no matter the cost. Seven years later, that vow was put to the test when a few demons had managed to slip past my father's seal and sought out our family. At the time, both Verg and I were mere toddlers, playing tag and throwing dirt at each other, as boys usually would do. However, the last thing I can really remember of my _peaceful_ childhood was my mother quickly running out into our backyard and scooping me and my brother up into her arms before fleeing into the house."

"You were attacked?" Nero questioned, his eyes wide with anticipation. "How did they find you?"

"Apparently, they knew my father's scent," Dante informed. "A demon's scent never really dissolves into the air like a human's would. Therefore, my mother and her sons were practically saturated with it. Anyway, following my mother's initial panic, Vergil and I began to wonder what exactly was going on and why mother was so afraid. We had time to ponder this when she quickly dashed into her room and placed us down on the bed before rummaging through her dresser, pulling out two rather shiny pendants afterward. She quickly gave Vergil and I each one of the pendants, explaining that these were gifts from our father and that we were destined to have them for humanity's sake. By now, the demons were starting to claw at the door. Vergil wanted to stay and fight, to protect his mommy and brother, but my mom wouldn't allow it. With me perched on her right hip, she quickly grabbed Vergil before ushering us out of the window. I was crying, and Vergil was protesting as my mother ran as fast as she could to a nearby park. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she carefully helped my brother into a small alcove at the edge of a small forest. She sternly instructed him to stay hidden until it was safe to make a run for it."

"So she split you two up for safety purposes," the younger man commented, resting his chin on his crossed forearms.

"She knew that if we were to stay together, it would be all too easy for the demons to find us and kill us," the experienced hunter explained. "However, she had intended to hide both of us before offering herself as bait to lure the demons away from our locations in order for us to make a break for a safer haven. Once she hid Vergil, she clutched onto me for dear life, frantically searching for another concealed location to hide me. I was hysterical by now, and fired off question after question, only to be met with panicked words of comfort from my mom. Eventually, she was able to find a spot, only to be ambushed by another horde of demons. Before she could even place me onto the ground, the demons attacked, tackling her to the ground before they proceeded to tear away at her flesh with their claws and teeth. I could only watch in horror as my mother met her grisly end, and in her last words to me, she screamed '_run_'. And I did. I ran as far away, and as fast as my legs could carry me. I was pursued of course, however, that pendant my mother gave me seemed to be my sole protection as the demons never found me nor my brother even when we were mere inches away."

"Wow," Nero whispered, finding no other words to vocalize as he processed the information his comrade bestowed upon him. "So that's why you hate demons so much."

"Never really can like those bastards," Dante remarked. "My father swore to protect the human race from the demons, and now I'm carrying on my father's legacy."

"What about your brother Vergil?" the younger slayer questioned. "Whatever happened to him?"

"Long story short, he blamed me for our mother's death and therefore set out to kill me to avenge her," the experienced hunter answered. "Or so I thought, turns out he was just power hungry and wanted our father's full demonic power. In the end, I had to kill him in order to prevent another catastrophe my father had sacrificed his life for in order to prevent."

Nero was about to question the elder man for more information about his brother when a low frequency humming noise vibrated the walls of the labyrinth. Glancing around at their surroundings, the two slayers quickly jumped to their feet.

"What's going on?" Nero questioned, covering his ears.

"That's the sound of the portal!" Dante exclaimed. "We follow the sound, we get out of here! Come on!"

The elder demon slayer took off after the noise, sprinting down corridor after corridor with Nero close behind. The humming noise was rather distinct, and quite ominous judging by their surroundings. He wondered why they hadn't heard the device's calling earlier, therefore saving them hours upon hours of mindlessly wandering the labyrinth. Nero shook his head briefly to clear his mind of the unnecessary question as he continued to follow Dante, the elder's crimson overcoat billowing out elegantly behind him. The rather dull hum began to increase in intensity as they rounded another corner only to come face to face with another dead end.

"What the?" Nero shouted as he briefly leaned over, working on catching his breath. "A dead fucking end?"

"Not necessarily," Dante quipped as he paced closer to the wall before placing his hand on it.

The younger man's eyes widened as he witnessed his comrade's hand disappear into the wall itself.

"What the fuck?" he retorted. "How did you do that?"

"This wall is a hologram," the elder man informed. "The portal's secret room is just beyond here. You ready?"

"Heh, I was born ready!" Nero boasted as he followed Dante through the threshold into a massive cathedral like room. "Wow…look at the size of this place."

"There's our target!" Dante announced as he pointed toward a pulsating, framed portal.

…

The morning's first rays began to ascend over the horizon as a new day began for the citizens of Fortuna. However, unknown to them, an alien army watched meticulously from a cliff overlooking the city. Mortar narrowed its eyes as it continued to stare at the modern buildings reflecting the sun's rays in various directions. Beside the elder experiment were Fuse and Sonar to its immediate left and Razor and Edge to its right. The beasts visually absorbed the foundation of their new playground before Mortar roared loudly, wordlessly giving the signal to his comrades to attack. Razor and Edge quickly dove into the ground before _swimming_ down the cliff, their prominent dorsal fins arcing out of the solid surface. Sonar followed, screeching loudly as it swooped down toward the city. Fuse was the next to go, leaping down to the ground with electricity crackling along its back.

Mortar however remained behind to watch the destruction. It narrowed its pointed eyes before waving its tail lazily from side to side, curling it a few times over. The beast was ordered to bring harrowing destruction upon the city, and so it did. Mortar didn't exactly know why its master wished for the small town of Fortuna to be destroyed, but it wasn't one to complain when destruction was an option. By now, various screams of terror and pain permeated the air as the experiments continued on their joyous rampage. Glancing up from the city, Mortar soon took note of a massive white building overlooking Fortuna. The beast narrowed its eyes before leaping off of the cliff, its intended target being that white building.


	4. Mission 4: The Calm Before the Storm

Yay, chapter 4 is finally finished and up! God this chapter took me forever...*throws a brick at writer's block* Oh well, it's done. Once again thanks so very much to everyone who read/reviewed/faved this story, you guys rock. *hands out cookies* So without further ado, here's chapter 4! :D

Hmm...is it just me or does Vergil's little segments in this story seem to be more along the lines of 'in the life of Vergil'? xD Don't worry, he shall gain more page space and importance later in the story. As an oversight, it won't happen in the next chapter...but probably the following chapter...^^;

.........

"Wow," Nero mused as he stared up at the massive, pulsating ring of colors. "Look at the size of that thing."

"Eh," Dante dejected as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I've seen bigger. Now the only thing we need to figure out is how to dismantle this thing."

"It's so pretty too," the younger slayer cooed as he began to slowly advance upon the portal, its enticing colors and distorted melodies haunting his fantasy.

The elder demon hunter shook his head as he casually extended his right hand, curling his fingers around Nero's hood thus further halting his progress. He could only guess that the portal that hovered before them was the kid's first demon world wormhole he had ever experienced. Eventually with age and experience, a demon slayer would grow accustomed to the various sounds and colors of the portals, and thus become immune. Nero on the other hand, was still too green, and that is why Dante made sure to keep a proverbial leash on him. His current leash was the length of the elder man's arm, and his weight was the counter balance. However, Nero's determination and youth was a prime reason as to how the two still managed to advance.

"Hey, come on kid," Dante scolded as he smacked the younger man upside his head. "Knock it off."

"Oh, sorry," Nero apologized as he lightly shook his head, the portal's tantalizing charms thwarted for the moment. "So, how do we destroy it?"

"Well, we have to lure the gatekeeper out of hiding," the experienced hunter informed.

"Gatekeeper?" the slighter hunter questioned as he began to glance around at their surroundings.

The room they were currently occupying was a massive cathedral. The marble walls and columns lining the vast room brilliantly reflected the pulsating lights of the swirling portal. Anything that wasn't marble, contained rich and deep colored oil paintings. The images ranged from the traditional angels and holy beings down to various demons and devil characters. The contrasting colors along with the ominously dim lighting caused the cathedral to ooze a haunting aura that made both hunters' skin crawl. Beneath their feet stretched a regal and intricate Persian rug, the otherwise simple designs merging together symmetrically to form an intricate pattern that repeated itself numerous times over. At the very center of the piece was an image of a devil, the telltale horns and the red skin vibrantly contrasting the intricate basket weave that seemed to act as its hammock.

A brief shudder coursed through Nero's body as he continued to visually absorb the cathedral. Aside from the portal's constant humming, the faint noise of small squeaks, creaks and groans vibrated throughout the rather empty room. Ever vigilant, the younger man's crystalline blue eyes quickly darted back and forth over the dimly lit walls, his gaze shifting every so often he imagined a steadfast shadow gain mobility. He soon began to clench and unclench his hands as he searched the room, gracefully weaving his footsteps together and apart in various intricacies as he traversed the floor. His rather sensitive hearing focused to a pinpoint as his ears twitched at every minute sound that occurred, his most prominent disturbance originating from the low clumping noises Dante's hiking boots made. As he drew even closer to the portal, Nero absorbed a moment to gaze up at the massive rip in the space-time continuum. A miniature whirlpool vibrantly distorted and intermixed every color of the rainbow and then some as the enigma continued its existence as a bridge between two very ideal worlds. The portal itself was maintained by a massive ivory colored ring, which spiraled into four distinct points; each edge contained a glistening gemstone. The immaculate curvature of the ring was intricately decorated with various silk ribbons, jewelry items, patterns and inks, creating a network of color and design.

"Beautiful isn't it?" a velvety voice cooed into Nero's right ear as he continued to gaze into the swirling mass of color.

"Yes," he whispered. "It's very beautiful."

"Do you want to touch it?" the voice questioned, each word sharply enunciated.

"Yes," Nero continued as he unconsciously extended his left hand out toward the hovering object.

"Nero!" Dante called as he pulled his comrade away from the portal for a second time. "Jeez you're a fucking handful kid. Perhaps I should paint a _Do Not Touch_ sign on there for you."

"**DANTE!**" a quartet of voices shouted in unison as the sparkling gemstones began to glow vibrantly.

The aforementioned slayer gazed upon the gems as the vibrant glow each emitted grew in intensity before the whole cathedral was bathed in their ethereal light. Reacting more from reflex, Dante quickly lifted his left hand up to his eyes, shielding them from the harsh light. Nero on the other hand stared wide-eyed as four serpentine heads protruded forth from the four points on the portal's ring. At first, the serpents were mere specters, writhing and wriggling their necks as each head fought for purchase out of its bony coffin. Eventually, the elder hunter's eyes adjusted to the light in time to notice the four serpent heads materialize. Various screeches and roars vibrated the serpents' vocal chords as they finally squirmed their way to freedom. At first, the four newly birthed heads merely floated in mid air, each pair of eyes glaring down upon the cathedral's intruders. However, a ravenous roar soon sounded, vibrating the very building's foundation.

The younger man dug his short fingernails into his comrade's thick overcoat sleeve as a fifth serpentine head emerged from the portal itself. This head was devoid of any color, and thus lacked a gem to emit an ethereal glow. However, once the beast fully emerged from the swirling vortex, a massive body complete with four powerful legs, two massive translucent wings and a long, whip like tail materialized. The body was a deep obsidian hue with crimson tribal markings all along its torso and flank, delving down to curl around its segmented underbelly and its scaled legs. The white serpentine head roared loudly, causing every structure in the room to vibrate violently, thus causing many pieces to crumble to dust. The two demon hunters pulled out their firearms as they quickly retreated a few steps, never turning their back to their new enemy. Narrowing its rectangular shaped eyes, the four colored heads soon phased into the newly emerged body. The massive neck of the beast squirmed and quivered before rupturing four extra times to accommodate each additional head. Blood rained down upon the two as each head emerged, practically drenching the warriors before they even made a move to attack.

"**Welcome to the forbidden cathedral devil hunters**," the five serpent heads announced in unison. "**Unfortunately for you, this place will soon become your grave. Choose your prayers wisely, for they will be your last.**"

"Heh, you make it sound like we're moving in," Dante retorted as he placed his hands on his hips. "Sorry bud, but I don't know if I'd be very comfortable sharing a bed with you."

"**You may jest now son of Sparda**," the massive beast began, its five separate heads undulating in various patterns with one another. "**But in a few moments, you will be just like your pathetic father and brother.**"

Dante growled low in his throat as a particular wave of negative energy coursed through his being. Gritting his teeth in a tight vice, he clenched his fists in rapid succession as he watched the serpent roar with laughter at its own snide comment. Nero furrowed his brow as he glanced over at the elder man. He clenched his jaw lightly as a pang of guilt and remorse spiked through his being. It seemed his comrade could never catch a break when it came to his family's tragic end. The demons always seemed to gain nothing but pleasure from that over stimulated wound forever festering on Dante's chest. The salt never ran in short supply in the business of demon slaying, and to have one of the largest, and deepest proverbial stab wounds in both worlds only further gained the elder man respect and humility. Nero briefly redirected his gaze to fall upon the very ground his enemy stood upon, his eyes hidden by his silver bangs. No matter where Dante went, his lineage always dutifully followed, never really allowing him a mere moment to actually experience how it felt to be normal, or to be accepted.

"Dante…" Nero whispered before lifting his shimmering gaze to fall upon the five-headed serpent. "I may never be able to understand how you can live your life day by lonely day, forever looking to a future that will never turn out how you wish it would. However, I will promise you this…no matter the situation, no matter the demon…I will be with you. I will fight alongside you to the very end, as a friend, a partner…and a brother."

"**Huh…little one,**" the dragon cooed as it fixed five pairs of glowing eyes on Nero. "**Perhaps you shall be the first to be sacrificed…since you are but a weak-minded fool!**"

"Goddamn it kid!" Dante shouted as he quickly latched his right hand around the younger man's hood, yanking him back and out of the way just as the crimson head struck, slamming into the ground. "Pay attention would you?"

"So how do you suppose we fight this thing?" Nero questioned as he quickly glanced from the elder man's perturbed expression to the quintet of colored serpents.

"Well, I have one idea," the hunter in the crimson overcoat commented as he turned his gaze on Nero, a devious smirk playing across his features.

"Oh shit," the younger man cursed as he proceeded to back away from his comrade. "No, no, no! Dante!"

The coy smirk playing across the experienced hunter's features grew slightly as he quickly extended his right arm out toward Nero, succeeding in halting the younger man's progress by tightly clenching his fingers in the stiff denim fabric of his blue overcoat.

"Time to earn your wings kid!" Dante shouted as he quickly switched the positions of his hands, curling the fingers of his left hand around Red Queen's sheath, while his right hand clenched the thin stretch of leather that was his belt.

"What?! Wait, what are you doing?" Nero questioned frantically as his comrade began to charge toward the dragon. "Dante!"

Grinding his teeth together, Dante pulled Nero's body back slightly before hurling him toward the beast. The younger demon slayer screamed and flailed in the air, shouting random obscenities aimed at the elder man before his body slammed full force into the ivory serpent's skull. Nero clenched his eyes shut as he instinctively clawed at the rather slick surface, vying to gain much valued purchase as to brace his slowly slipping form. The ivory dragon head on the other hand, screeched loudly upon impact, violently shaking its head from side to side to alleviate the organic projectile from its bony features. Eventually Nero's right hand managed to locate a distinct divot in the serpent's snout. Curling his fingers into the crevice, he utilized it as a stepping-stone in order to crawl his way back up the creature's skull.

"Dante, you son of a bitch, I'm going to kill you for this!" the younger man shouted as he pulled Blue Rose from its holster.

"I think you'd better worry about killing this thing first kid!" the elder slayer retorted as he leapt up onto a low-hanging scaffolding rack, pulling Ebony and Ivory from their respective holsters.

"Where the fuck are you going old man?" Nero questioned as he fired off two charged rounds at the emerald colored head, which chose to snap at the sprawled slayer.

"You'll see kid!" Dante answered before he fired a few rounds at an amethyst colored head, succeeding in gouging its eyes out. "Just keep the fuckers busy!"

"Easy for you to say!" the young slayer commented before bouncing a few bullets off of the golden colored head. "You're jumping fucking statues while I'm a piece of hickory smoked sausage!"

"Kid, you need some serious help in the ways of sarcasm," a snide comment echoed as Dante gracefully leapt up onto a massive candelabra suspended from the rotting ceiling, the counterfeit crystals clinking together from the drastic change in weight balance. "Because that was kind of bad."

"Oh will you shut the fuck up and help me already?" Nero screamed as he quickly rolled away from another strike, only to be caught by another. "Ack, fucking snake!"

"Heh, didn't figure you for the damsel in distress," the elder man chided as he swung back and forth from the candelabra's uneven weight distribution. "Alright madam, I shall be your valiant knight in shining armor!"

Dante smirked before firing off multiple rounds toward the four remaining serpent heads still retaining their eyesight. One by one, the elder demon slayer skillfully gouged out the dragons' eyes, eventually blinding the creature. The beast roared in a pitiful wail as it began to thrash its multi-colored heads about frantically, the scarred remains of their eye sockets torrentially weeping blood. Figuring that this was his cue, Nero carefully leapt off of the ivory serpent's head. However during his decent, the ruby colored head recoiled toward his body, its hazardous jaws agape.

"Oh fuck!" he cursed before the wild jaws clamped down upon his body, the beast sinking its teeth into his abdomen. "Aaaaagghhh!"

The younger demon slayer growled low in his throat as he endured the pain, his arms otherwise pinned to the sides of his body, thus disabling him from drawing his weapons. Casually twirling his twin handguns around his trigger fingers, the elder hunter quickly holstered the weapons before unsheathing Rebellion. Clutching the sword tightly in his gloved hands, Dante perched on the extreme edge of the candelabra before drastically shifting his weight back and forth. This dramatic switch in movement caused the elegant piece to swing back and forth violently. Nero gasped as he began to feel his body weaken from the crushing pressure. His vision swam from the loss of vital blood and he began to succumb once more to the comforting darkness of unconsciousness. With one finally thrust forward, the experienced slayer crouched before launching his body off of the candelabra, utilizing its momentum to propel him through the stale air.

The blinded serpents roared as they continued to thrash their heads about, using their sense of hearing to detect where certain sounds were coming from and what created the sounds. The ruby colored dragonhead had little time to register the crescendo of a fierce battle cry before the owner of the straining voice sliced through its clenched jaw. Dante elegantly twisted his body in midair in order to finish through dismembering the serpent's jaw and catch Nero as his body fell free from the beast's clutches. Clutching tightly to Rebellion with one hand, and cradling Nero in his other, Dante crash landed onto the floor, but quickly regained his footing in time to side step the ruby dragon's severed jawbone. Absorbing a moment to catch his breath, the elder man glanced down upon his comrade, who tightly wrapped his arms around his midsection, his facial features contorted into an expression of intense pain.

"**How dare you!**" the ivory dragon screeched as the ruby head fell limp from loss of blood. "**You shall pay for your crime demon slayer!**"

"Heh, you gotta catch me first!" Dante retorted as he back-flipped out of the way of a well-aimed strike from the amethyst head. "And by the looks of things, you're kind of at a disadvantage."

"**Silence**!" the beast roared before a massive five-clawed talon careened toward the two.

The elder hunter's trademark smirk reclaimed his lips as he easily deflected the attack with Rebellion's barbed edge, slicing a chunk of flesh out of the scaled object before recoiling the pent-up potential energy.

"Dante," Nero called as he opened his pain-stricken eyes. "Put me down…we can fight him…together."

"Nero, are you even aware of how deep that thing's teeth sunk into your flesh?" Dante questioned as he fended off another strike from the golden head. "Or do you need a reminder?"

"I said," the younger slayer began before he pulled Blue Rose out of its holster, aiming the dual over-under barrels at his comrade's jaw. "Put. Me. Down."

"Fine, but don't come crying to me when you get caught again," the elder man retorted as he carefully released his grip on Nero.

"Heh, don't worry, I won't need it," Nero confirmed as he quickly holstered Blue Rose before unsheathing Red Queen. "Let's finish this up quick and get some lunch."

"Sounds like a plan to me!" Dante cheered as he charged the beast, Rebellion raised high.

The remaining heads screeched and roared loudly as the two slayers assaulted them. Dante casually leapt onto the emerald head's skull, plunging Rebellion's blade deep into the bony material. Hooking his left leg around the protrusion, he quickly pulled Ebony and Ivory out of their holsters and proceeded to open fire on the amethyst head. Nero meanwhile attracted the attention of the gold and ivory colored heads. A loud battle cry vibrated his vocal chords as he revved his sword's exceed system, the blade blazing a vibrant red glow from the stored potential energy. Leaping onto the golden head's snout, the younger slayer flexed the glowing claws of his demonic arm before thrusting his hand down toward the beast's head. His activated devil bringer materialized into existence before the enlarged image of his hand latched onto the dragon's exposed cranium. He growled with an animalistic inflection as he began to constrict his clawed fingers, the combined pressure the digits inflicted causing small fissures to appear before the bone itself shattered. The beast unleashed a pained wail before falling limp shortly after.

Shrieking loudly, the ivory head struck out at Nero, its glistening teeth hell bent on ensnaring the youth within. However he predicted the event to occur and thus elegantly spun out of the striking range of the beast before launching his own attack. Swinging his curved blade through the air, roiling flames erupted from its propulsion system, setting the dragon ablaze upon the initial contact. Wailing and thrashing about wildly, the ivory head made a valiant attempt at extinguishing the flames, but to no avail. The beast eventually fell limp as the flames continued to lick charred scales until the very patterned objects proceeded to melt away. Nero sighed heavily as he wrapped his right arm around his midsection again, his clothes completely drenched from his own blood. A confident chuckle echoed in Dante's throat as he finished off the emerald head, leaving the smoldering ivory dragonhead.

"**No! How is this possible**?" the beast roared as it slowly raised its head, pointing its snout down upon the two slayers. "**Mere humans defeating me? It just can not be!**"

"Shut up you ugly fucker!" the two slayers shouted in unison before scissoring their blades against the beast's neck, effectively severing its head afterward. "And go to hell!"

Following the beast's initial decapitation, the dragon's body began to dissolve, its remnants flowing back into the swirling portal. Both Dante and Nero gazed up at the object as the mass of distorted colors warped and swirled in the opposite direction before shrinking into oblivion. A moment of silence reigned over the battle-scarred cathedral before deep fissures began to appear in the carved bone portal. The elder demon slayer casually clapped the dust and dirt from his hands before turning on his left heel and proceeding out of the room, Nero not too far behind. Eventually, the portal crumbled into dust, as did the rest of the prodigious artifacts and paintings.

"Well, another job well done," Dante noted as he slung his left arm around Nero's shoulders.

"Heh, yeah," Nero sighed as he leaned against his comrade, his left arm wrapped securely around his midsection. "I guess you can say that."

"You alright kid?" the elder man questioned, glancing down at Nero. "You took quite a heavy hit back there."

"I'm fine," the younger slayer lied, obvious pain etched onto his otherwise placid face. "Really."

"Nero," Dante addressed, his voice lowering a few octaves to display his concern. "Even I can tell that you're lying."

"No, I'm serious," Nero enforced, his quick temper flaring up along with delayed pain in his weeping puncture wounds. "I've survived worse than this…hell I even survived that ordeal with Agnus when he stuck a sword in my stomach."

"You never told me that," the experienced hunter commented as he halted their progress forward.

"That's because at the time I didn't even know who you were," the slighter man argued before glancing up at his comrade, furrowing his brow in frustration. "And I was hell bent on killing you."

"Hmm, good point," Dante agreed before progressing forward again. "Well, in any case, I'm taking you to a hospital after we get out of here."

"No!" Nero quickly retorted, slightly startling his companion. "No, please, I think I'll be fine just resting for a bit."

"Nero you nearly got sliced in two by that thing and you want me to just let you bleed to death on my couch?" the elder slayer shouted, his patience wearing thin.

"Dante…just," the younger man began, only to sigh heavily afterward, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "Just please trust me. I'll be all right, I promise. Just please…please don't take me to the hospital."

Dante sighed heavily as he slowed his pace, possible questions filtering through his subconscious as he lightly chewed on the inner lining of his left cheek. A soft smile soon spread onto his features before he effortlessly lifted the younger slayer off of the ground and slung him over his broad left shoulder.

"Hey, what the fuck are you doing?" Nero shouted as he fisted his hands in the stiff leather of the elder's overcoat.

"Carrying you," Dante answered, his smile growing into a smirk.

"Damn you!" the young hunter cursed as he continued to flail his appendages before finally giving in with a heavy sigh.

…

As the sun began to ascend higher into the otherwise cloudless day, screams of panic and terror rang through the crowded and bloody streets of Fortuna. Joining the chorus of screams were the distinctive shrieks and cries of the obsidian creatures as they ravaged through the crippled city, chasing down herds of fleeing pedestrians before picking them off one by one. Sonar shrieked as it flew overhead, its supersonic cries crumbling buildings and disabling stragglers. Razor and Edge tore swiftly through the cracked streets, slicing through various citizens with ease and grace before surfacing to ambush others. Fuse howled loudly as it chased down its prey, tearing its victims apart limb by bloody limb. Every so often it would unleash an echoing cry that would summon lightning storms, commanding the deadly bolts into the amassing crowds.

Mortar on the other hand leapt from building top to building top in order to leave the destruction of the streets below to its brethren. Its target was the gleaming ivory building, which sat proudly on the very outskirts of the small city. Landing on a smaller building, the creature paused briefly before glancing skyward, coming face to face with a whole battalion of Bianco Angelos. Mortar narrowed its eyes before shrieking up at them. The leader of the Angelos waved its golden sword at the inky black creature, wordlessly commanding six Biancos to surge toward it. Mortar cocked its head before crouching low and leaping high into the air. Having initially missed their target, the Angelos gazed skyward, the experiment twisting in mid-air in order to prepare an attack.

Unleashing a distressing call, Mortar curled its body before launching itself down toward the group of Biancos, skewering one with its bony tail. As the other Angelos closed in on the creature, Sonar flew by and surged into three airborne Angelos, disorienting them and crushing the breastplate on the first one it attacked. Screeching loudly, Sonar circled around before crossing its wings in front of it. The obsidian wings began to glow a vibrant orange before Sonar quickly thrust the appendages out, shooting multitudes of jagged spears at the Angelo army. The glowing feathers punctured everything they came into contact with, instantly melting through the various substances. In that simple movement, many of the Bianco Angelos fell dead. The Angelo leader and about three Biancos were left standing after the assault. Mortar smirked deviously before surging toward the leader, extending its deadly claws. Before the Angelo leader had any minute chance of defending itself, Mortar's claws pierced straight through the armor. Tearing its claws out of the Angelo leader's body, the creature quickly dispensed of the remaining Angelos before continuing its pilgrimage toward the Order's headquarters.

Meanwhile, Salidar smirked in reverence as his predicted chaos continued to rage throughout the city, large columns of smoke billowing out in random sections. A strong wind blew through the atmosphere as Fuse's lightning storms continued to rage overhead, summoning forth multiple strikes of charged negative energy. The false devil hunter sighed in content before raking his right hand through his hair. Headquarters had been an eruption of panic and chaos as the Holy Knights frantically struggled to plan out their next move against the powerful demons. Their first strategy was to release the Biancos, but it was evident to Salidar from the beginning that there was not a single thing or weapon in their arsenal that would kill his experiments. The creatures were flawless, combining various elements of demonic and natural strengths to create a literally impossible force to defeat.

"Salidar!" Angelo's panicked voice called as the Order captain sprinted onto the roof. "Please you must come with us! We need your demon hunting expertise to kill these monstrosities!"

The false demon hunter smirked as he partially ignored the captain's plea, choosing rather to continue to enjoy the scene of destruction from his vantage point.

"Salidar!" the Order captain shouted again as he began to advance. "That is an order!"

"Careful captain," Salidar growled as his eyes flashed neon red, prominent veins pressing against his taut skin. "I do not take orders from the likes of you!"

"What the-ugh!" Angelo screamed as the hunter's clawed left hand pierced his abdomen, puncturing through to his back.

"Sweet dreams captain," the false slayer chided as he quickly withdrew his blood stained hand, smirking as his prey fell limply onto the roof's ground.

Salidar laughed deviously before shaking his arm, tossing the rather thin blood from its scaled surface. Turning to face the now re-ruined city, the false hunter was able to pick out each of his creatures' forms before Mortar gracefully leapt up onto the roof, landing to its master's right.

"Ah, wonderful timing Mortar," Salidar commented as he glanced down upon his first creation. "Do as you wish with the people in this building, but bring the girl Kyrie to me alive! Do you understand?"

"_Completely my liege_," Mortar answered before sprinting over to the still open door leading down into the building.

The streamline creature sprinted down hallway after hallway on its four lean legs, its bony tail acting as a balance to keep it from leaning too far to one side. Panicked screams and cries permeated the hallways as Mortar rushed through, pausing to decimate anyone who impeded its path forward.

…

Kyrie sobbed softly as she stared out of one of her massive bedroom windows, watching as her beloved hometown was once again at the mercy of demons. Her body quivered profusely as she clutched to her wing pendant for dear life. Her deep brown eyes continued to dart back and forth over the vast destruction of Fortuna before a loud knock sounded on her door. The sudden disturbance startled the ambassador as she turned quickly to see who was at her door. However before the person had a chance to even open the large wooden barrier, screams of pain and the faint sound of a well sharpened blade slicing through flesh echoed outside of her door. Soft whimpers cascaded past her quivering lips as she slowly advanced upon the door, stopping once crimson blood began to seep through the cracks. Kyrie screamed as five small blades pierced through the wooden object. The blades wriggled slightly in place before the crafted objects were quickly withdrawn. An anguished screech sounded on the other side before the five blades sliced through the door, the severed pieces falling onto the floor. Her voice momentarily paralyzed, along with her body, Kyrie remained glued to her spot as the lithe form of an obsidian demon decorated with neon blue tribal markings leapt into her room.

The beast narrowed its opaque eyes before slowly advancing upon her, adopting a predatory gait along the way. Finally remembering how to move her body, the Order ambassador began to retreat back toward the window she was previously gazing out of. Mortar halted its progress forward before tilting its head and sitting back on its haunches. The creature cooed softly as it continued to stare at her; its jade green, slanted eyes fixated on her every move. Briefly raking its claws along the polished granite floor, Mortar began to curl its tail multiple times before slowly wagging it from side to side.

"_What is your name female_?" the creature questioned telepathically, causing Kyrie to visibly relax.

"How..how can you talk?" she questioned, her voice a mere whisper.

"_I did not ask you to answer with a question_!" Mortar barked, a volatile hiss vibrating its vocal chords as it peeled its scaly lips away from its teeth. "_Now tell me your name_!"

"I-It's Kyrie," the ambassador answered, pressing her back against the wall behind her.

"_Then you are to come with me_," the obsidian beast informed as it stood onto its hind legs, straightening its back. "_If you resist, I shall kill you_."

Reluctantly, Kyrie slowly paced over to the creature, never averting her gaze for even a moment. Mortar's white pupils followed her movements as she began to journey closer to the door. Turning around, the experiment followed her, directing her toward the roof and its master. Salidar remained atop the building, his arms crossed defiantly over his broad chest. Since he no longer had to hide his identity, the demon discarded the royal garments in favor of black denim jeans, a crimson tank top and a black overcoat. The coat's long tails flapped violently in the brutal winds of the continuous storm summoned by Fuse, creating a varied cadence of cracking noises. His long obsidian lochs were tied back into a low ponytail, loose bangs draping across his brow. Salidar's face was devoid of any particular expression as he continued to gaze out over Fortuna's final moments. His ears then twitched as a crescendo of hesitant clacks followed by short clinks advanced upon him.

"Well done Mortar," he praised as he turned to face his guest. "My lady, it's an honor to finally meet you."

"Wh-who are you?" Kyrie questioned, her voice soft and quivering.

"My apologies miss," Salidar replied before bowing deeply. "I am Salidar."

Kyrie whimpered softly before retreating a step, only to gasp sharply once her back collided with the segmented underbelly of Mortar, which was currently standing on its hind legs. Salidar chuckled menacingly before advancing closer to the ambassador.

"Don't worry my dear," he cooed as he latched his right hand forcefully around her chin. "I have no plans of killing you…yet. You are to remain alive so long as your little boyfriend comes to rescue you. And I have a feeling that he will be arriving to the party very soon."

"Nero…" she whispered softly as a saltine tear cascaded down her face.

Reverting his eyes to focus on Mortar, Salidar released Kyrie's face before sharply inclining his head, wordlessly summoning his creation to join him in watching the small town burn to the ground. A low growl vibrated the obsidian creature's vocal chords as it lowered its body back onto four legs. The growl quickly escalated into a sharp hiss as Mortar snapped at Kyrie, causing her to squeal and recoil. The creature's hiss slowly dissolved as it walked forward to join its master.

"Don't worry honey," Salidar's deep voice reassured as he placed his right hand down upon Mortar's head, lightly petting it. "Mortar won't harm you, so long as I tell him not to. However, if you decide to try and make a run for it…I will tell him to kill you. And believe me princess, he is a lot faster than you."

Kyrie's face paled three shades as she glanced from Salidar to Mortar and back again. She sighed softly as she sat down on the ground of the roof, wrapping her trembling hands around her golden pendant.

"Please Nero…" she whispered closing her eyes. "Please come and find me."

…

Vergil sighed heavily as he momentarily paused in his training exercises. Panting softly, he wiped the film of sweat from his forehead with his left forearm, shaking his head afterward. He then twirled the katana he held clutched in his right hand before quickly sliding it across the sword's sheath. The long blade glistened in the light of the roiling sun, a resilient sheen curving along its razor edge before disappearing into the hollow sheath. He then glanced over to a small pagoda where Danielle was busy setting a small table for his lunch break. Vergil set his lips in a thin line before carefully replacing the valued katana back into a small chest of identical swords. His rather stony expression softened slightly as he gazed upon the battle and training worn swords. The katanas he came to possess over the years since his arrival into the underworld, compliments of his brother, assisted him greatly during various demon encounters and daily training exercises. However no sword in his collection could compare to his long gone blade Yamato. He vowed that one day he would get the sword back, however he never really imagined the process of retrieving his blade would be so tedious. Vergil sighed heavily as he paced over to the small pagoda, a warm smile gracing Danielle's lips.

"Good afternoon sir," she greeted bowing deeply.

"Heh, if _good_ is what you would call it," Vergil answered curtly as he plopped down in one of the chairs.

"Is something troubling you master?" Danielle questioned as she sat down in a chair opposite of his. "Ever since your dream, you have been rather…"

"On edge?" he finished, wrapping his long fingers around a small teacup and saucer, sipping at the herbal beverage afterward.

She nodded solemnly as he placed the polished saucer in his lap.

"Danielle, I absolutely have no inkling of why I'm so apprehensive anymore," Vergil confessed as he retrieved one of the many hors d'oeuvres placed before him on a silver platter, nibbling on it afterward. "Perhaps I am merely questioning what I would do if I actually manage to find a way to cross into the human world again."

"So you are going then?" the young maid questioned, tilting her head to the right.

"Going?" he reiterated, furrowing his brow as he sipped at his tea once more.

"To the human world," Danielle continued.

"Heh, perhaps," Vergil answered, replacing his teacup and saucer onto the table. "I have to find a way there first."

Danielle nodded in understanding as her master stood from his chair and stretched, his defined muscles flexing and rippling under his taut skin with every movement he made. Sighing heavily, he allowed for his arms to haphazardly drop by his sides, the semi-limp appendages swinging back and forth briefly before coming to a halt by his hips. Stepping back out into the sunlight, Vergil searched for a rather pleasing patch of grass in his backyard. Upon the spot's discovery, the condemned son of Sparda spread his feet to about shoulder-width apart and inhaled deeply. Closing his eyes as he inhaled, he lifted his hands, pressing his palms together before his chest. Upon completing his initial inhale of breath; Vergil held his breath before slowly exhaling through his mouth. Reopening his eyes, he continued his rather deep breathing cadences while slowly maneuvering into different positions, stretching his muscles and improving his flexibility at the same time.

Danielle meanwhile began to clean up the setting, before placing a glass lid over the hors d'oeuvres in case Vergil would become hungry during the rest of his training. However, a quick shout of pain quickly caught her attention. Reverting her eyes to gaze out over the expansive backyard, she soon noticed her master writhing on the ground, clenching the neatly trimmed blades of grass desperately between his fingers. Momentarily forgetting about clean up, she rushed over to Vergil who was softly growling from the pain he was apparently suffering from.

"Vergil, what's wrong?" she questioned, concern saturating her voice.

"Ugh..my goddamn back…again!" he growled, electricity crackling across his prone form.

"Now, now sire," Danielle cooed as she gently ran the pads of her fingers across his sweat slicked back. "No need to get upset. Just take deep breaths, and calm yourself."

Vergil grumbled before laying his head down in the long blades of grass, inhaling deeply before slowly exhaling. He began to grit his teeth as he felt his personal maid's timid hands smooth over his skin, causing the burning muscles underneath to ripple in reaction. A soft smile curled Danielle's lips as she kinetically scanned the muscles of his back, carefully studying their connections and interactions with other groups of muscles, tendons and bones. As she traced the curved indent of muscle that stretched protectively over his spine, a course shiver rippled through Vergil's being, in turn causing another sharp spike of pain.

"Fuck!" he cursed gritting his teeth.

"My apologies master," she replied, stilling her hands.

"Dani, please," Vergil grunted, tightly curling his fingers in the grass once more. "It's getting worse…and I don't know how long I can keep him at bay."

"Shall I call for the healers?" Danielle questioned.

"No…just push down on..my right shoulder blade," he choked out, an demonic growl vibrating his vocal chords. "Hurry!"

"But sir..I'll hurt you!" she commented, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Just do it!" Vergil roared, clamping his eyes shut tightly.

Danielle exhaled quickly before running her fingertips over the specified area, locating it after a few protesting grunts from her master. Centering the heel of her right palm over the tightly coiled muscle, she placed her left hand on top for added support. She then began a vocal countdown, preparing both her and Vergil for impact.

"Okay, ready?" she questioned, earning a decisive nod. "One…two…three!"

Upon the number's vocalization, she forcefully thrust down upon the affected spot, utilizing her body weight to make the move effective. The sharp application of pressure on the coiled muscles shot intense pain signals racing through Vergil's body, in-turn ripping an anguished roar from his throat. Holding her position for a ten-second count, Danielle slowly released the pressure before gently massaging the area. The son of Sparda panted softly from the experience before closing his eyes, enjoying the gentle massage.

"You should probably take it easy for a while now master," Danielle warned as she gently applied more pressure, flexing her lithe fingers across the medium-sized red mark she had inflicted upon his skin.

"Heh, and what if I choose not to abide by your wishes?" Vergil questioned, a sly smirk tainting his features.

"Then you'll only end up hurting yourself more," she answered, lightly slapping his left shoulder. "You won't be hurting me…only yourself."

The half-naked man grumbled to himself as he continued to lie facedown in the warm blades of grass. He reveled in the vegetation's soft caress of his milky-white skin as a humid breeze filtered over the landscape, threading effortlessly through his short, spiked lochs. Vergil sighed heavily before he slowly advanced onto his feet, grunting as a fresh spike of pain rippled through his muscles.

"Danielle," he called, instantly gaining her attention. "See to it that a hot bath is run for me. I can't afford to be crippled for very long mind you."

"As you wish my liege," Danielle commented before bowing deeply and scurrying into the house.

…

Dante sighed heavily as he revved his motorcycle's engine a few times, coasting the vehicle into its designated spot adjacent to his shop's platform stairs. Slowing his bike, he stretched out his legs, walking the vehicle into its respective spot before pushing the kickstand down. Leaning his rather heavy bike onto its kickstand, the fatigued demon hunter leaned over the purring vehicle before turning the keys in the ignition a quarter turn counter-clockwise, shutting off the bike. Dante then straightened his back, grunting as various vertebrae popped back into alignment. The elder man's movements caused Nero to stir, the younger slayer yawning before rubbing at his eyes.

"How are you holding up kid?" Dante questioned as he swung his right leg over the silent motorcycle, aiding the aforementioned in his alight from the vehicle.

"Well, better than when we started out," Nero informed, his pulsating demonic arm wrapped loosely around his abdomen. "I think the bleeding's stopped at least."

"Well that's good," the experienced hunter sighed before finally noticing the new streaks of crimson trailing along his motorcycle's chasse, a slight frown creasing his features. "Anyway, let's get inside so we can patch up your wounds."

"What about yours?" the younger man questioned before he was practically pushed up the stairs and into the _Devil May Cry_ establishment. "Didn't you attain some fresh ones with that battle against the hydra?"

"Nah, you were the one doing all the physical contact, remember?" Dante reminded as he quickly shrugged out of the remains of his crimson overcoat, sighing heavily afterward. "Man, and this was one of my favorites too."

"Well, I guess I'm with you there," Nero commented as he carefully shrugged out of his own blood soaked overcoat, the once vibrant denim stained dark obsidian. "Heh, I guess this means I'll have to go and get another one."

"Nonsense," the elder slayer retorted as he briskly opened a nearby closet. "I tend to change my fashion sense with every new year that passes."

"Hah, I didn't think you were a stickler for fashion," the youth chided as he began to peel away what was left of his tank top and hoodie.

"I'm not, but similar to how a princess can never show up to a ball wearing the same outfit, I can't take on another monumentous job wearing the same overcoat," Dante informed as he quickly selected one of his older and more care worn overcoats from the closet. "And I can tell from the look on your face and the condition of your jacket, you won't be wearing that again right?"

"Well, I don't want you to sacrifice one of your coats just for me," Nero interjected, his intentions rather humbling. "It would seem unbefitting."

"Nonsense," the elder man replied before his eyes fell upon a particular overcoat that slowly drained the smile from his face.

There before his very eyes, a long, baby blue overcoat with golden embroidering and ivory decorations trailing down the jacket's lapels appeared. The overcoat's highly contrasting color soon made Dante ponder why he hadn't noticed it before amongst the gaggle of crimson and black. Sighing lightly, he allowed for his gaze to fall upon the floor, various painful memories beginning to creep back into his subconscious. He briefly uttered the word _no_ a few times over before quickly slamming the closet door closed, startling Nero in the process.

"Vergil," he whispered before resting his forehead against the wooden barrier.

"Hey, Dante?" Nero called, slowly advancing upon his comrade. "Are you okay?"

"Huh?" Dante questioned as he turned to face the younger slayer whose brow was furrowed in concern.

"Are you okay?" the younger man reiterated before tilting his head to the right in curiosity. "It's not everyday someone slams a door for the hell of it."

"No, I'm fine," he lied before quickly side-stepping around Nero's half nude form. "I just saw a bug is all."

Nero raised his eyebrows in disbelief before turning his gaze back to fall upon the idle door.

"Damn, that must have been some bug," he joked before following his comrade into the kitchen. "So…got a shower in this joint?"

"Yeah, the hose out back," Dante answered as he opened the refrigerator, plucking one of the many cans of beer from the bottom shelf, kicking the door closed afterward.

"Dante," Nero began as he gazed down at the unopened can of alcohol in his friend's clenched hand. "Beer…in the middle of the day?"

"Uh-huh," the elder man responded before popping the tab using his teeth. "Yeah, so. What's wrong with that?"

The younger slayer merely shook his head before exiting the kitchen and traversing over to the staircase. Since the small bathroom adjacent to the kitchen didn't have a shower in it, he deduced that Dante must have had a private bathroom joining his upstairs bedroom. Upon reaching the summit of the stairs, he paced over to the door before opening it, practically losing his toes as one of his comrade's many swords clattered onto the floor. Nero quickly jumped back from the door as the sword with a dragon head and wings adorning the hilt briefly teetered back and forth on its side before coming to rest spanning the door's entry way. He sighed heavily before carefully stepping into the room and lifting the sword off of the floor. Nero tilted his head as he examined the sword, a thunderbolt emblazoned onto the sword's shaft.

He merely shrugged his shoulders before carefully leaning the sword against the wall from which it fell from. The younger man couldn't really understand why Dante treated some of his weapons so poorly. Sure he had quite a collection of them, but surely they weren't merely toys that would just later be placed on a shelf and forgotten. Placing his hands on his hips, Nero then began to scan the room with his gaze. Dante's bedroom was the epitome of a bachelor pad. Various clothes and other fabrics were scattered and strewn about on the floor and on what he could only imagine was furniture. His bed was dutifully unmade, the crimson and obsidian sheets haphazardly tossed about the piece of furniture. A small ceiling fan rotated slowly in a fixed circle, valiantly attempting to circulate the rather thick atmosphere. In the far corner from the door sat a massive stereo system complete with two-three speaker stacks and two sub woofers on either side. The actual stereo was placed at the center, the current time displayed in small green numbers. Eventually, his gaze shifted over to a rather cluttered desk. All along the once magnificent polished oak surface, papers, books, CDs, tapes, DVDs and various other forms of media were strewn. At the very heart of the desk rested a lone leather bound book with an obsidian ribbon marker sandwiched between the covers and aging pages. A small ballpoint pen was stationed on top of the book.

"Huh…must be his journal or something," Nero commented as he continued to stare at the book.

Temptation prompted him to quickly snatch up the book and begin reading. However, he merely grunted before turning away from the desk, leaving the journal and the private thoughts it contained to his comrade. Carefully stepping over the small mountains of clothes and other hazardous objects, the young slayer finally managed to locate a slightly ajar door. The wooden barrier led into a quaint private bathroom with a rather spacious shower stall complete with a bathtub. Relief washed over the Order official as he quickly stepped into the bathroom, closing the door afterward. Quickly locating the light switch, Nero flicked the overhead light on before turning on the cold and hot water knobs, causing a rather steady stream to shoot out of the stainless steel faucet. Lifting up a small lever underneath the faucet, he slid a small plug into place, sighing softly as the cascading water splashed noisily in the porcelain tub.

…

Dante meanwhile sighed softly as he dragged his feet exiting the kitchen. Trudging over to his desk, he quickly slipped his arms into the red overcoat he wore when he faced off against Mundus on Mallet Island. The rather tight leather flexed elegantly over his larger muscles, the long tail fluttering down around his ankles. Granted he had bulked up since he had last worn the jacket, therefore he predicted the object would be a little tight. However, Dante merely compared the snug fit to the feel of how his leather gloves hugged every minute detail and curve of his fingers and hands. Lightly clearing his throat, his ears twitched slightly as he registered the muffled sound of water splashing noisily in the porcelain tub in his private bathroom. A sly smirk curled the right corner of his lips as he paced over to the jukebox.

"Eh, I knew he'd find it sooner or later," he commented as he browsed through his song lists a few times over.

Eventually, he settled on a song before turning his gaze to focus on the closet door. After all of these years, Dante had no idea that the memory of his departed brother would come back to haunt him. Sure he had his doubts about whether or not Vergil would visit him in his dreams to harass him, but he was utterly blindsided in the few minutes prior. Dante swallowed past the forming lump in his throat before slowly walking back over to the door. He clenched his hands tightly as the extremities began to quiver from the pent up anxiety. Pursing his lips together in an impossibly thin line, the elder hunter wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the slightly tarnishing doorknob before twisting it. The door slid open easily, once more emitting light to play across the shimmering features the blue overcoat had to offer.

"I guess my collection is complete now," he whispered softly as he pulled the blue coat from the closet, the fabric folding easily in his hands. "I have an amulet from my mother, a sword from my father…and now, my brother's overcoat."

His vision began to swim as saltine tears burned the back of his eyes. Blinking in quick intervals, Dante held his emotions at bay as he raked his gaze over the fine, embroidered leather. Vergil had always been a stickler for perfection, and that is why his room was always a polar opposite to his own. Up until the bitter end, they always seemed to do nothing but fight. They fought over who got to hold the frog they found at the pond, or who got to fly the kite. They even fought over who could hold their breath the longest. Dante sighed a choked breath as he crossed his arms over his chest, holding the overcoat tightly in his embrace.

"I never really did get to say good-bye," he whispered before leaning against the wall adjacent to the closet, the baby blue overcoat still clutched tightly against his chest. "Or more importantly…thank you."

…

Nero sighed in content as he slowly lowered his wounded body into the warm, soapy water. He slowly closed his eyes as he stretched his limbs under the water, his feet propped against the opposite side of the tub. Small beads of sweat began to surface on his forehead and face as the steam emanating from the water caressed his exposed features before dissipating into the atmosphere. The satisfied smile remained upon his lips as he reopened his eyes, raising his hands to the water's surface. Nero briefly cleared his throat before going about the practice of washing his body of dried blood, sweat and dirt. However, he often paused to build small mounds of bubbles floating atop the water's surface.

"Aaah, look out, here comes the shark!" he shouted before enclosing his right hand over the small mound of bubbles, making roaring, screaming and explosion noises in the process of its destruction.

He laughed in spite of himself and his inner child before setting to the task of building another sculpture of bubbles. Gathering what was left of the frothing spheres of soap on top of the water, the young slayer compacted the various groups before lifting his new creation into his hands. Inhaling deeply, he lifted his cupped hands toward the ajar window on the far wall of the bathroom before sharply exhaling through his puckered lips, granting a few of the bubbles a periodic flight.

"Fly away!" he commanded before inhaling deeply through his mouth, clamping his nostrils shut with his left index finger and thumb.

Trapping his inhaled breath in his lungs, Nero quickly submerged his whole body under the surface of the water. He briefly reveled in the comforting embrace the warm water offered his abused body before he quickly lifted his head, resurfacing. Dispelling the remaining air in his lungs, the young hunter raked his hands over his face and through his hair before opening his eyes. Glancing around at the expansive shower stall, he searched for any kind of brightly colored bottles. He smiled once he located one, reaching up toward a small shelf just below the idle showerhead. Wrapping his fingers around the slim bottle, he plucked the object from its resting place before lowering it down to his eye level. He frowned though at the lack of a label for the bottle of soap. Shrugging his shoulders he unscrewed the cap, curiously sniffing at the scent the soap perforated. The liquid soap smelled strongly of a mixture of sugar and lavender, easing a drunken smile onto his lips.

"I'm sure Dante won't mind," he reassured himself as he inverted the bottle, squirting a small pool of a clear viscous solution into his cupped palm.

Carefully placing the bottle on the edge of the tub, Nero dabbed the index and middle fingers of his left hand into the substance before smoothing it through his damp silver lochs. Once the small pool of shampoo was exhausted from his right palm, Nero raked his fingers through his hair, working the shampoo into a fine lather. Upon completion of lathering his hair, he quickly submerged underneath the water, trailing his hands through his slowly fluttering lochs afterward. Surfacing a few moments later, he ran his fingers through his dripping hair a few times over, checking to make sure he rinsed the rest of the lather out. The young slayer sighed softly before lifting the small lever situated just under the faucet, disengaging the plug. Shivering slightly from the temperature change upon his exit from the water, Nero quickly searched through the cabinets before finally locating a warm, fluffy towel.

He first dried off his shoulders, trailing the towel down his chest and arms, his demonic arm pulsating at the fabric's contact. Next was his abdomen, the tender flesh sending small jolts of pain every time the towel brushed over a healing tooth indent. Moving further south, he quickly dried off his legs and genitals before switching to drying off his back. The final part of his body he dried off was his hair. Draping the now damp fabric over his head, he roughly ruffled it, drying and tangling his hair in the process. A coy smile curled his lips as he pulled the towel off of his head, his hair now defying gravity in all directions. Wrapping his towel around his slim waist, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror before raking his fingers through his messy and tangled hair, somewhat giving it order. He sighed heavily after a few minutes of fixing his hair and quickly exited the bathroom, stopping on a dime once he remembered that he didn't have a change of clothes.

"Damn it," he cursed before carefully making his way through Dante's haphazard of a room, leaning over the small loft's railing afterward. "Hey Dante!"

The elder man glanced up from his momentary daydream once Nero's voice registered in his subconscious. Pushing off of the wall, he quickly paced over to his desk and carefully laid Vergil's overcoat along the top of his desk.

"Yeah Nero?" he answered, turning his gaze to settle on the semi-clothed slayer.

"Would you mind if I borrowed some of your clothes?" Nero questioned, heavily leaning against the thin railing. "I forgot to bring an extra set of clothes with me."

"Uh, yeah sure," Dante commented lightly rubbing the back of his neck. "Just look through my dresser, I'm sure you'll find something in there."

"Okay, thanks!" the younger man replied before quickly turning back into the messy room.

A soft smile curled at Dante's lips as he watched the kid bound back into his room. He seemed rather full of energy despite nearly meeting his demise a few hours prior. Nero never really ceased to amaze the elder slayer whether it came to fighting prowess, charm, or whit; the kid seemed to be right in step. Dante sighed heavily before trudging over to his ornate desk chair and plopping down on it. Lifting his feet onto his desk, he lazily tilted the abused piece of furniture back onto two legs before draping his head over the carved back. He closed his eyes as he laced his fingers together in his lap, finding the momentary peace and quiet to be rather relaxing. However as a demon hunter, he never really could truly relax for every demon lurking in the demonic realm was out for his blood, and he knew full well that they would stop at nothing to kill him. The elder man reopened his eyes as his mind began to conger up more and more queries about what Nero had told him earlier about his past.

He personally had never really heard about an ancient race of beings that had managed to survive to modern times untouched by modern technologies. If what the kid said was true, then he had no doubts as to why the Galucians were an anomaly upon their discovery. He had no idea what they practiced, how they obtained their nourishment or even what languages they spoke. He guessed that asking Nero wouldn't really help either since he didn't even know what his mother looked like. To his knowledge, all the young slayer really knew was a brief biography that was contained within the Order's archives. Averting his eyes to fall upon a small drawer to his right, he mentally assessed its contents. Pulling his feet off of his desk, he placed his chair back onto four legs before pulling open the small drawer. The first object to catch his eye was the amulet his mother had given him the day of her murder and the Sparda family's demise. The silver chain sparkled radiantly in the dim lighting of the room, as the amulet's jeweled centerpiece seemed to glow with its own radiance. Up until Vergil's final battle on Mallet Island, Dante had only possessed one amulet. However, after he had succeeded in releasing his damned brother from Mundus's clutches, Vergil had willingly bestowed upon him the second amulet, thus activating the true power of the Force Edge.

Dante glanced back at the ominous sword perched upon a support pillar to the small loft. The pendulum-like blade sparkled innocently in the overhead lights despite its intimidating appearance. Thanks to the sword, he was successful in destroying Mundus and Mallet Island along with him. However, he really owed Trish gratitude for her sacrifice in his ultimate time of need deep in the bowels of the sinister castle. He pursed his lips into a thin line before wrapping the fingers of his right hand around the cold metal of the chain necklace, lifting it out of the drawer afterward. Raising the amulet to his eye level, he furrowed his brow upon noticing that Vergil's amulet was missing. Carefully placing his amulet down on top of his brother's overcoat, he rooted through the papers contained within the drawer, searching rather frantically.

"What the fuck happened to it?" he questioned aloud before opening the drawer underneath the first one. "Fuck!"

…

Meanwhile Nero busied himself rooting through Dante's drawers, giggling every so often he found condoms, personal lubricant, or other various sex toys.

"Ugh, I sound like such a fucking preteen right about now," he grumbled as he placed the fifth box of condoms he located on Dante's desk. "Sheesh, does he even realize how well stocked for sex he is?"

Groaning from the lack of well-fitting clothes in the top drawer, he moved down to the second one, rolling his eyes as he found yet another bottle of personal lubricant. Plucking the bottle out of the jumbled mess of clothes, he placed it on top of the current collection of condom boxes with five other similar ones. Turning his attention back to the drawer, he smiled in success upon at least locating a decent pair of satin boxer shorts. Pulling the towel from around his waist, he quickly slipped into the obsidian shorts before returning to his clothing scavenger hunt. Moving down to the next drawer, he quickly shouted an obscenity before jumping back. Nero slowly began to question his comrade's sanity as he pulled a demon's skull from the drawer, the curved and sharp features of the object still retaining bits and pieces of rotting flesh. Fortunately for him though, the drawer was otherwise devoid of any type of clothing.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" he questioned rhetorically as he chucked the skull over his shoulder before moving to the closet.

As he pulled apart the sliding doors, he smiled in relief, as neatly arranged and complete outfits adorned the small space. Pulling one complete outfit from its hangar, Nero placed the articles of clothing onto Dante's bed before quickly slipping into it. First was a pair of ripped jeans, which hung rather loosely around his hips, followed by a black t-shirt with two crossed guns on the front. Taking a chance, he rooted through the top drawer again before eventually locating a pair of ankle socks. He quickly slipped his feet into the socks before exiting the disaster area.

…

"Where is he?!" Salidar screamed as he ground his teeth together, clenching his hands tightly.

Mortar cooed in an indifferent answer before turning its gaze to fall upon Kyrie's seated figure. Glancing back at its master, the demonic man nodded briefly before the creature gracefully descended from its perch atop a radio spire. Narrowing its jade green eyes, Mortar hissed sharply as it advanced upon the ambassador, startling her from her thoughts. Kyrie's gaze carefully followed the experiment's movements before glancing over at Salidar, the man glaring menacingly at her.

"Well?!" he barked, causing her to flinch slightly.

"I-I don't know," she answered, her hands encircling her pendant once more.

"Don't play games with me girl!" Salidar screamed storming over to her before clutching onto her dress's collar, lifting her up to his eye level. "I know you are privy to his location…tell me!"

Kyrie's body began to tremble as she turned her face away from his, choosing to focus on a faraway building instead.

"You had better answer me girl!" the demonic man snarled, as he forced her to look at him.

"He-he went to C-Capulet City," Kyrie answered. "He went to find Dante."

"Now you see darling, was that so hard?" he questioned before releasing his grip allowing for her body to collide sharply with the concrete rooftop. "Mortar, fetch me a phone, I have a little message to deliver."


	5. Mission 5: Discoveries and Strategies

Yay finally an update! :D Sorry for the extremely long wait/delay. Christmas along with finals really killed my brain. I know, stale excuse right? Well it's true! Anyway, I hope this chapter makes up for the wait. If it doesn't, feel free to throw stuff at me. :] I don't mind. Thanks muchly to everyone who has been commenting/faving/reading this story. You guys all rock. *gives you freshly baked Christmas cookies* I swear they always taste better after the holidays! :D

Vergil sighed heavily as his eyes scanned over a multitude of words contained within the fifth book he had stationed before him. So far, his research of demonic portals and inter-dimensional wormholes had led late into the night. Everyone he knew whom had taken up residence in the massive establishment was either on guard duty or asleep. The library itself was dark and silent, the rather unnatural silence actually bothering the son of Sparda. Before her leave, Amelia had presented Vergil with a lantern for his late night studying. To his right was a small notebook containing bits and pieces of various articles along with descriptive illustrations he drew to better understand what was written. A small ballpoint pen was loosely clutched in his right hand, the object currently hovering over an unfinished word as its master droned over the text with mild interest. Vergil soon found his eyes drooping closed as fatigue clawed its way through his subconscious.

"_The portal's power resides in two components_," he read aloud before twirling the pen in his fingers. "_A viable sacrifice to serve as the portal's loyal gatekeeper and a precious object. The object is usually a vessel of great energy or the solidified artifact of a living being's soul_."

"Working late as always I see," a coy voice echoed, moderately gaining Vergil's attention.

The man with spiked silver hair lifted his gaze to fall upon the approaching form of his loyal servant. The massive cathedral windows filtered in the radiant moonlight from beyond the segmented glass. The visible rays of moonlight streaked through the thick atmosphere of the room and played across various structures. As Danielle paced closer, the projected light curved around her clothed being, adding dark shadows to some folds and recesses of the fabric. Vergil's piercing gaze reverted back to his text following a few moments of distraction. His chiseled features were illuminated by the soft flickering light contained within the lantern, and by sharp streaks of moonlight. He pursed his lips into a thin line as his maid's footfalls grew louder before halting in front of his occupied desk.

"Danielle, you know you shouldn't be wandering the halls this late at night," the damned son of Sparda informed, his voice monotone.

"My apologies," she answered bowing deeply. "Have you found out what it was you are searching for?"

"No, not yet," he answered as he sharply closed the encyclopedia before him, the generated sound echoing loudly in the vast library.

Danielle scanned the pitch-black room before reverting her gaze to fall upon her master. He sighed heavily as he placed his face down upon his open palms, the tips of his fingers threading in his spiked bangs. She furrowed her brow in concern before walking around the desk, halting mere inches from his left. Even though her master claimed he neither harbored nor observed any human emotions whatsoever, Danielle could clearly see the proverbial wear and tear Vergil's late night study sessions earned him. A frustrated growl echoed his vocal chords as he crossed his arms before him onto the desk's surface, leaning his forehead against his clothed forearms afterward. Vergil's growl soon morphed into a groan as his shoulders began to quiver slightly from his frayed nerves.

"Perhaps you should call it a night sire," she suggested, lightly rubbing circles onto his clothed back. "I'm sure an answer to this puzzle will show itself in due time."

"That's just it Dani," Vergil replied, his voice muffled partially from his close proximity to the desk. "Time is what I don't have. Every day that goes by is another day that that thing could be attacking my brother."

"But I thought that you always despised your brother," the petite maid commented, tilting her head to the right in curiosity. "Why this sudden change of heart?"

"I don't know!" he shouted, quickly bolting onto his feet, his icy glare piercing Danielle's. "I just….I don't know."

Vergil groaned in annoyance as he quickly paced over to one of the bookcases, the stack of shelves filled with books easily towering over him. He closed his eyes as he leaned his right shoulder against the edifice, the fingers of his right hand curving around his brow. Danielle clenched her jaw periodically as she glanced down at the still-open books scattered about the desk. Her resilient emerald-colored eyes scanned over the compacted text, the characters of which were beyond her comprehension. How her master was able to understand, let alone follow the ancient writing only served to confuse her. However, her purpose was to serve Vergil, not delve into his personal life, even if his life after death proved to be an eternal wound from which he deeply suffered. Choosing to study the foreign text further, she turned a few pages. Her only aids in understanding the general topic of her master's research came in the form of pictures.

One image however soon captured her attention. Squinting her eyes slightly to view the picture in the dim light, she began to trail her thin fingertips across the portrayed object's strong outline. The image was of an elaborate gemstone encased in an intricate coffin of metal. Attached to the haphazard shape of the metal, a distinguishable chain finished off the piece. Directly under the image of the pendant was the silhouette of the demon Sparda. Danielle had heard stories of all kinds about that demon. In the world of which they lived, Sparda was nothing more than a vile traitor who was righteously put to death for his heinous crimes against the demon lord Mundus. However, Mundus had also died in the wake of that great battle. How a lowly demon such as Sparda could have gained so much power in such a short period of time was anyone's guess. Danielle could only figure that it was acquired human emotions that drove him to make the ultimate of sacrifices.

"Do you believe that…Sparda suffered from human emotions as well?" she questioned, gaining Vergil's attention a few moments later.

The crystalline blue-eyed man turned his gaze toward his servant who quickly reverted her gaze to fall upon the image of the infamous demon. Allowing for his right arm to cascade back to its natural position by his side, Vergil quickly paced toward Danielle, his footfalls quick and sharp. The young servant was barely able to utter a stifled gasp before her master's left hand curled securely around her throat, his long fingers constricting tightly.

"How dare you utter such a despicable comparison," he growled, his narrowed eyes glowing vibrantly in the silver moonlight. "Human emotions could never impact a full-blooded demon!"

"My…apologies master Vergil," Danielle choked out as she wrapped her quivering fingers around his.

"Now be on your way," the silver-haired man ordered as he practically dropped the young woman onto the polished tile floor.

Danielle gasped once her body collided sharply with the floor, her right hand wrapping loosely around her throat. Her emerald gaze darted up to meet her master's as he paced closer to the desk, leaning his hands on the edifice afterward. Seizing her opportunity, the young maid quickly scampered to her feet before bolting out of the library, her heeled shoes clacking noisily down the hall. Vergil stared at the opposite end of the cluttered desk as he listened to his servant's retreating footfalls. There were some occasions when the young woman proved to be a rather helpful advisor when it came to matters such as dreams or relations. However, his family history was something neither she nor anyone else had any right to meddle in. A heavy sigh passed over his lips as his eyes scanned over the source material Danielle had paged through. He squinted his eyes as he began to skim through the text, pausing once he completed a paragraph in the middle of the left page.

His eyes widened considerably at the revelation the printed ink bestowed upon him. With a brutish nature similar to his twin brother's, Vergil swiped his left arm across the desk's surface, throwing the other four open encyclopedias unceremoniously onto the floor. Beginning atop the long section of words, the condemned son of Sparda quickly scanned the lengthy article. Quicker than a human eye could follow, Vergil intently studied the text, carefully piecing together the scattered meaning behind embellished words. As he finished a paragraph, his ice blue eyes darted to the page's border spaces to examine the illustrations the article contained. The first image portrayed the regal dark knight Sparda clutching his treasured sword, which afterward had inherited his name. Due to the nature of the encyclopedia, his father's portrait was rendered in black and white. However, from the stories told around the underworld by word of mouth, he understood his father was very tall, and classically dressed. The image portrayed Sparda wearing a monocle to match his regal attire. The final feature to gain Vergil's attention was Sparda's short spiked hair complemented with short bangs draped over his forehead.

Vergil sighed heavily as he continued his study, skimming through the second paragraph at break neck speed. The next rather lengthy paragraph issued forth information concerning his father's spectacular rebellion against the demon ruler Mundus. Apparently, the rebellion started over a dispute Sparda initiated against Mundus when he was ordered to lay waste to a costal town. When Sparda had refused to take part in the slaughter, the dark lord of the underworld had ordered for the knight to be forced to watch the town's destruction as punishment for his insubordination. Eventually, the attacks on the human world quickly escalated out of control, spreading like wildfire along the otherwise peaceful and serene environment. With each attack, Sparda grew more and more enraged until one day he took up his sword against Mundus. The battle had waged for countless years until the rebellious knight located and exploited Mundus's weakness.

The following image encouraged Vergil to furrow his brow. Another portrait of a humanoid demon surfaced, with his description or appearance yet to come in the concluding paragraph. The man's image was similar to his father's with the noticeable contrast being his long obsidian lochs. His prominent, high cheekbones coupled with a sharp angling chin and eyebrows gave the mystery man a natural scowl. His rather thin lips were set in a fine line, portraying his high alter attitude. However, unlike his father, the black-haired man dressed in commoner's clothing, sporting a long billowing overcoat and hiking boots. As portrayed, the man carried a long-bladed katana and two handguns. Vergil had no doubts in his mind that when the man's image was captured in the pages of the encyclopedia, more modern times had evolved along with the mortal world's technology.

One thing he really couldn't wrap his mind around was the fact that his left arm was not portrayed along with the rest of his body. Not to say he didn't have a left arm, but it was hastily shaded leaving barely any noticeable comparison to the reader. Pushing the miniscule questions to the back of his mind, the condemned man continued his reading, pausing once the name _Salidaria Demani_ appeared in the text. The man was now endowed with a name, however why was he so important that he be placed among the readings of his father? And why was his name so closely similar to his father's? His curiosity and unquenchable thirst for knowledge spurred his further readings, and his ultimate discovery tore a gasp from his throat.

"No, it can't be," he whispered as his eyes darted back up to the image of the black-haired man.

…

"Eh, kid," Dante growled as he tightly tied a stiff gaze bandage around his comrade's midsection, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "Stop squirming!"

"Sorry," Nero apologized. "Your hands are very cold."

"Oh, really?" the elder slayer questioned coyly, a devious grin curling his lips.

"I'm giving you ideas aren't I?" the younger man questioned as a coarse shudder raced up his spine.

"Eh, you could say that," Dante commented before leaning back against the leather couch they were seated upon. "But, I really don't feel like carrying through with my evil plot to torment you right now."

"Oh lucky me," Nero retorted as he stood from his spot, the joints in his knees and ankles popping and groaning from the renewed movement. "Aren't you going to take a shower old man?"

"Eventually," sounded a half-hearted reply, the comment's proprietor stifling a gaping yawn with his left hand.

"You don't really say a lot do you?" the young slayer questioned as he journeyed over to his comrade's expansive wall of weaponry.

"What do you mean by that?" Dante responded as he stretched out across the couch, crossing his arms behind his head as a makeshift pillow.

"Well, whenever I ask you a question," Nero began sliding the pads of his human fingers along the polished metal of a random sword perched high above his head. "You always reply with either one word, or you twist my words around so you end up confusing me more in the end."

"Sorry kid," the elder slayer retorted following a brief yet hearty chuckle. "That's just the way my brain works. I'm not supposed to give long winded or philosophical responses to every question that someone asks me."

"I figured as much," the half-clothed man commented, sighing heavily afterward as he lost interest in the polished weapons.

Nero proceeded to chew lightly on the tender lining of his right cheek as he began to snoop around the office space of _Devil May Cry_. The elder slayer meanwhile had drifted off into a light slumber, his clothed chest rising and falling in even increments. Weaving his fingers together behind his back, the younger half-demon visually absorbed the rather cluttered living space in the back left quadrant of the room before redirecting his gaze to fall upon the well-stocked bar in the far right quadrant. Nero hummed softly to himself as he traversed closer to the bar, curious as to how many different kinds of alcohol Dante actually had. Judging by the varied brands of champagne, whiskey, wine, rum, and drink mixes, the young slayer could only ponder where and how his comrade obtained the adult beverages.

Glancing to his left, Nero checked to make sure Dante was still sound asleep before jumping over the dusty bar to better examine the stash. One of the first bottles his gaze fell upon was the easily recognizable Jack Daniels whiskey. Wrapping his fingers around the thin, rectangular bottle, Nero quickly unscrewed the cap on it before eagerly sniffing the alluring scent of the amber liquid. He then proceeded to cough slightly from the strong musky scent, causing his throat to clench before relaxing a few moments afterward. Truth be told, the younger slayer never really had an appetite for the obscenely powerful soul eater. He was more of a martini kind of guy. The glass that the beverage was served in was always visually pleasing, and the neon-bright colors of the drink itself always spread a smile onto his face. What really attracted him to the beverage, however, were the small paper umbrellas that were conveniently added. A wide smile curled Nero's lips as he envisioned the accessory. He was so absorbed into his daydream that he hadn't even noticed Dante awake from his surprisingly brief catnap. The elder slayer cocked his left eyebrow before slowly alighting from the couch and trudging over to the bar. He then pursed his lips together as he leaned over the polished piece of furniture, his hooded gaze raking over the younger man's crouched figure.

"Well now, what do we have here?" he questioned firmly, a few strands of his silver hair cascading down over his brow, shading his eyes afterward.

"Huh?" Nero questioned as he turned his gaze toward the ceiling, his crystalline-blue orbs soon contacting his comrade's smoldering sapphire eyes.

"Don't you know it's not polite to mess with other people's things?" Dante questioned in an accusatory tone as he swiftly yanked the bottle of Jack Daniel's out of the younger man's grasp.

"Hey, what did you do that for?" the slighter half-demon retorted, furrowing his brow in anger.

"Sorry kid, but you're not going to get drunk on my watch," the elder slayer answered before snatching the whiskey bottle's cap out of Nero's other occupied hand, sealing the bottle afterward. "Nor are you going to get drunk on my stash of alcohol."

"Jeez, I didn't know you were such a stickler for your alcohol Dante," Nero accused, scrunching his lips into a small, childish frown before crossing his arms over his chest.

"You would be too if you knew how much all of this shit costs," Dante commented as he carefully replaced the oblong bottle back onto the shelf his comrade had swiped it from.

"Then why don't you enlighten me?" the younger slayer questioned curtly, pushing himself onto his feet before placing his hands onto the polished surface of the bar, leaning forward afterward.

The experienced hunter blinked in surprise before retreating a step following Nero's sudden move. The kid wore a smug expression on his face as he patiently awaited his response, a rather wide smirk curling his lips. Dante mirrored his comrade's smirk with one of his own as he too leaned against the bar, partaking in an involuntary staring contest. Nero ground his teeth together in frustration at the elder slayer's stubborn method of stalling, however he refused to give in. Eventually, the younger man's smirk fell into a small frown as he resisted the urge to blink. Dante meanwhile retained his smirk and his glare as his sapphire eyes bore holes into his comrade's slightly quivering gaze.

He knew for sure that the kid was going to break, however, he was lasting longer than the elder half-demon had expected. A small droplet of sweat slowly curved around Nero's jaw line before following a prominent vein in his neck down to his right collarbone. His eyes were now burning, and his subconscious was screaming at him to end the torture already. However, his pride decreed otherwise, thus aiding the youth in his battle with his comrade. Dante on the other hand easily held up his reserves, thoughts of how he could cheat causing his smirk to steadily grow.

"What the hell are you so happy about old man?" Nero's curt voice questioned, successfully slicing through the abnormally silent room afterward.

"Oh nothing," the elder lied, coyly sliding the fingers of his right hand along Nero's tense left hand. "Just thinking is all."

"Dante, stop molesting my hand," the slighter man growled, baring his teeth.

Dante's smirk quickly grew into a toothy grin following Nero's command, causing the boy to pale slightly. Fearing that he just gave his elder comrade another montage of rather filthy imagery, he shuddered, ultimately concluding with him squinting his eyes shut. The experienced slayer snorted in triumph before crossing his arms over his chest, tilting his head up slightly to kinetically display his dominance over the younger man.

"I win," he proclaimed as Nero's icy scowl soon found his once more.

"You cheated!" the younger slayer shouted, thrusting out his clawed index finger toward his comrade in an accusatory fashion. "You purposefully did that so I would lose my concentration!"

"Actually kid," Dante corrected as he latched his left hand around Nero's right wrist, inserting his right hand into his right jeans' pocket. "I didn't cheat, you lost your concentration on your own accord. The only thing I did was brush my fingertips across your knuckles."

A faint shade of pink began to color the crystalline blue-eyed man's cheeks as he proceeded to pull against the experienced hunter's grip. A small smile curled Dante's lips as he continued to watch Nero struggle to break his grip, the hand he held captive pulsating violently in varying shades of azure with each forceful tug. Before long, the younger slayer began to curse, grinding his teeth as anger flared within his figurative being. Once again, he found himself at the mercy of the cocky elder slayer. However this time, his devil bringer was the appendage that was being held captive. Dante meanwhile nonchalantly tilted his head to the right, cracking his neck rather loudly in the process. He grunted in satisfaction before tilting his head to the left to realign the vertebrae. Nero cringed kinetically and emotionally as the distinct sound of bones and joints popping and grinding together replayed a few times over in his subconscious. Eventually he voiced his disgust as he momentarily ceased his efforts to break the elder's grip on his wrist.

"Ew, that was just disgusting," he commented as he wrinkled the bridge of his nose, flaring his nostrils in the process.

"What?" Dante questioned innocently as he lifted his right hand to the back of his neck, soothing the pulsating skin with the pads of his fingers afterward. "It felt good."

"How on Earth can you tell me that cracking your neck can feel remotely satisfying?" Nero retorted as he pursed his lips into a thin line, his eyes redirecting to fall upon the other slayer's exposed neck.

"Well, you know that _cracking _noise that you hear whenever someone cracks his or her knuckles or the neck or something like that?" the experienced slayer began, earning a slow comprehensive nod from his partner. "Well, people don't actually crack their joints. That noise is essentially little bubbles of hydrogen popping in between the bones and the cartilage."

"Really?" Nero questioned, his head tilting to the right as a half smile curled the left corner of his lips. "I didn't know that. Where'd you find that out?"

"In the bathroom of the last movie theater I went to," Dante answered shrugging his shoulders. "There's a little sign positioned above the automatic hand drying stations that lists a bunch of crap little kids and absentminded adults find rather amusing."

"Like you," the younger man quickly retorted, his smile growing into a smirk.

"Exactly," came a straightforward reply, causing Nero's smug expression to quickly dissipate. "You should know by now kid, there isn't much you can say or do that would hurt my pride. However, your pride, on the other hand, is apparently very fragile. I'd take care of it if I were you."

"What do you know about pride old man?" Nero fired back, resuming his tug of war with the elder, twisting his wrist fervently to free the appendage.

"Well, I do know one thing about pride that is often a major weakness for seriously heterosexual men," Dante commented before sharply tugging on the younger slayer's writhing, captive wrist, swiftly pulling him closer to his larger body.

Nero yelped in surprise as he was forcefully yanked toward his comrade via his devil bringer. Locating minor leeway to gain a sturdy foothold in the miniscule space between the two, the younger man collided sharply with Dante's broad chest. He furrowed his brow in frustration at the elder's antics as obvious questions concerning the actual intent behind the flirtatious gestures filtered through his mind. Placing his left hand flat against his comrade's chest, Nero quickly pushed himself away, creating a slightly more comfortable space between them. His achieved purchase of space was short lived, however as Dante quickly looped his right arm around his lower back, causing their abdomens to reunite.

"Damn it Dante," Nero cursed as he struggled to pull away once again. "What the fuck is your problem? Can't you see you're making me uncomfortable?"

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" the experienced hunter questioned, his eyelids cascading partially over his luminous sapphire eyes. "Or are you making yourself uncomfortable?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" the slighter man growled, ferociously pulling against his comrade's grip as his clothed feet struggled for purchase on the slick wooden floor. "You are the perverted old man who's trying to molest me here!"

"So you say," Dante cooed as he tightened the grip of his right arm around Nero's waist, succeeding in crushing their bodies closer together. "You say I am molesting you, however if you were to actually take a step back and look, you'd notice that we are as close to each other as friends are when they embrace."

Nero slowly began to ease his violent actions toward the elder as his words repeated in his subconscious. For once, Dante actually had a point, and that even though his grip was firm and constricting, it wasn't overbearing. If the elder had actually intended to rape him, he probably would have either already done it, or would have been more aggressive. Either way the experienced hunter fascinated the youth not by his honorable status as a legendary devil hunter, nor his devil may care attitude. What really attracted the younger man's admiration was how wise the elder hunter actually was, even though his wisdom was always deep into left field. The slight blush from moments prior resurfaced across his cheeks as he slowly relaxed his tensed muscles, leaning into Dante's _embrace _afterward.

A soft smile pulled at the elder slayer's lips as the distorted ripples of negative energy exuding forth from the youth in his arms slowly began to fade. Nero sighed heavily before propping his chin up onto his comrade's left shoulder, causing the muscle to dip slightly from the implied weight. Once the strength of the negative energy decreased to a dull thrum, Dante too began to ease his tense and flexed muscles. As his grip slowly eased, he released Nero's demonic arm, choosing to wrap his left arm around the youth's back. Nero on the other hand, chose not to return the embrace, his warring emotions preventing him from carrying out the loving gesture. Even though the younger slayer admired Dante for his demon slaying skills, his wit, wisdom, and sense of humor, he discovered the near impossibility of understanding what made him do the things he did.

"Dante…" he whispered as his muscles began to tense once again. "Stop, this just doesn't seem right."

"It doesn't feel right because you're thinking too much with your brain," Dante informed as he dipped his head over Nero's right shoulder. "And not listening to your heart."

"Dante," Nero replied, his voice gaining volume.

"Nero," the sapphire blue-eyed man answered, pulling away to meet his comrade's gaze. "I can understand that you have responsibilities that require you to be the support for others. But please, don't allow the pressure from those responsibilities to cloud your judgment. After all, even someone as strong as you could use a shoulder to cry on every once in a while."

Nero slowly tore his gaze away from the elder's, redirecting his crystalline orbs to stare down upon the glimmering, uneven planks that made up the floor. What exactly did he mean by allowing the responsibilities of life to cloud his judgment? Life was nothing but one massive responsibility; coupled with thousands more that could either hinder or help. The youth was just beginning his journey through life, yet it seemed as if the weight of the world was bearing down on him because of his duties as a Holy Knight of the Order. Dante sighed heavily as he dipped his head over his comrade's right shoulder again. The demon within him cooed softly as he inhaled Nero's scent. The all too familiar smell of a human male caused for the bridge of his nose to wrinkle slightly, his nostrils flaring afterward. His demon then softly growled, causing the half-breed to bare his teeth.

"**All humans smell alike**," Dante's inner demon growled. "**Yet this one smells…different**."

"_It's because he has a demon inside of him as well_," the human portion of the son of Sparda informed. "_Their scents are mixed, just like ours_."

"**Yet he doesn't smell of ashes and brimstone**," the awakened demon interjected. "**He has more of an earthy scent, like a forest spirit or something**."

"_Spirit_!?" Dante exclaimed as he quickly pulled away from Nero, startling the youth in the process.

"Dante?" the younger slayer questioned as he tilted his head to the left, his brow furrowing in concern. "You okay?"

The experienced hunter stared intently at his comrade with contracted pupils, his muscles flexed and tense. The sudden outburst and separation of the two slayers caused for the slighter hunter to question the other's well being. The elder slayer appeared as if he had recently spotted an apparition of some kind and was apprehensively awaiting its next move. Concern began to surface in Nero's mind as he slowly approached his comrade. However before he could reach Dante, the tense hunter quickly recoiled and sprinted over to the staircase.

"Dante!" Nero called as he took off after him. "Hey, wait up!"

The slayer with sapphire eyes ascended the staircase with the ease and agility of a springbuck, bounding toward the second level in mere seconds. Dante ignored the youth's pleas to halt his frantic journey as he latched both of his hands around the tarnished knob of his bedroom door. Throwing open the wooden barrier, the elder man bolted into his room before slamming the door shut, rattling the hinges as he did so. Nero had managed to reach the top step in time to witness his comrade shut himself away in his hazard of a room. The distinct sound of sharp clicks soon caught his attention as Dante engaged the locking mechanism built into to the door's handle. He sighed heavily in defeat before turning and plopping down on the top step.

Propping his right elbow on top of his clothed quadriceps, he leaned his head against the softly glowing palm of his demonic hand. His hooded eyes stared down upon the polished surface of the floor at the base of the staircase. Sometimes he wished he owned a manual to the elder man because he certainly couldn't understand him with the limited knowledge he possessed. One moment, the elder was partaking in a staring contest with him smiling like a lunatic and the next he's scared to death of him. Something was amiss, and he'll be damned if he didn't get to the bottom of the matter one way or another. He quickly turned his head to the left, glancing over his shoulder toward the idle door leading into his comrade's room.

"You're hiding something from me Dante," he whispered to himself as he narrowed his eyes slightly. "And one way or another, I'm going to figure it out."

He quickly stood up and turned to face the wooden barrier, determined to gain access to the elder's room either by brute force or a witty conversation. However before he could even begin with his plan of attack, the old circle dial phone placed upon Dante's desk proceeded to ring. Nero blinked in surprise before glancing down at the object over the thin banister railing. Squinting his eyes slightly, he quickly rubbed the underside of his nose before trudging down the stairs to answer the telephone. Since the elder didn't seem to believe in the invention of the answering machine, the phone continued to ring even after five or six relays. Rolling his eyes, Nero sighed before wrapping the fingers of his left hand around the receiver, lifting the object to his left ear afterward.

"_Devil May Cry_," he answered before patiently awaiting a response.

…

Dante leaned all of his body weight against the wooden barrier as he waited for the brash youth to begin a matter of countering his defense. He panted softly as he listened for the inevitable invasion of his sanctuary, however, when no such attack came, he sighed heavily in relief, sliding to the floor afterward. Demons were something he had no trouble dealing with, living around, or in some cases befriending. However, when it came to spirits, he was unwittingly at a disadvantage. What he lacked in fearlessness, he made up for in superstition. Glancing toward his overstocked desk, his sapphire tinted gaze scanned over the small towers of books and journals, visually searching. Eventually, he pushed himself onto his feet and journeyed over to the sturdy piece of furniture. Extending his hand toward the small lamp stationed in the far right corner of the desk, he pushed a small button on the object's base, causing the soft glow of a low watt light bulb to illuminate the crowded desk. He then pulled a small chair out from under the edifice, plopping down on the dark stained, wooden object. Leaning his elbows on top of the desk's surface, he buried his face in his hands, groaning softly afterward.

"**The youth will begin to question your hesitation I hope you know**," the deep voice of his demon commented as an apparition of the beast materialized to his left.

"Yes, I am fully aware of that," Dante argued as he curled his fingers in his silver lochs, pulling afterward. "That is the very nature of human curiosity after all."

"**He possesses the essence of an earth spirit**," the demon informed, its stark ears lowering slightly as it dipped its head. "**How peculiar**."

"But how can that be possible?" the elder slayer questioned, turning his sapphire gaze onto his translucent inner demon. "How can a spirit be labeled as a demon? And what about his arm?"

"**His arm is living proof of the infection that spreads throughout his body**," the demon answered, its almond-shaped eyes widening as its ears swiveled forward.

"Infection?" Dante reiterated, turning in his chair to fully face his inner demon's apparition.

"**From what I could gather via his scent, the boy you know as Nero was attacked by a horde of demons**," the beast informed, tilting its head to the right. "**They were infected with a potent poison that attacked the human flesh of his arm upon contact. However, the child's inner spirit fought back the poison, managing to just barely contain the infection to his right arm. In exchange for the containment, the boy's skin hardened to a bony material and his flesh became luminous. During this exchange, I can only gather that Nero underwent excruciating pain**."

"That's awful," the experienced hunter commented sympathetically, reverting his gaze to fall upon the floor.

"**That's not all**," the demon continued, lowering its ears to rest upon its head. "**His inner spirit was gravely wounded during the internal struggle. However it did not die. It merely slumbers deep within his subconscious being, awaiting the day for its power to be discovered**."

"But what about his devil trigger?" Dante questioned, lifting his gaze to fall upon his demon's translucent form. "Isn't that his inner demon?"

"**No, what you saw as the child's devil trigger was merely a power substitute**," the beast corrected. "**That demonic spirit that possessed Nero upon his obtaining of your late brother's sword, is merely the remnants of Vergil's power in this realm. Eventually, that devil's power will fade away, leaving behind the infected youth who is completely oblivious to the much greater power that lies dormant in his mind**."

The sapphire blue-eyed man sighed heavily as he turned back to face his desk, a small journal along with a ballpoint pen stationed mere inches before him. Upon the discovery of his journal, Dante chose to stare blankly at the object as he contemplated what he would eventually fill the pristine pages with. The obvious choice of words would be to write about what his inner demon had informed him concerning Nero. Following the obvious course of action, he curled his fingers around the body of the pen, retrieving the object from its resting place. He then pulled on the obsidian ribbon, which marked his place in the book of memories, and opened to a clean page. However, once he placed the tip of the pen against the blank page, his hand began to move on its own accord.

Dante furrowed his brow as his eyes followed the swift, yet frantic movements of the writing utensil as it darted across the canvas of lined paper. Following several minutes, the increment of writing ceased its involuntary movements and fell limp against his clenched fingers. The hunter blinked a few times before eventually vacating his right hand from the page. Placed in various positions around the page, Dante closely observed the varied symbols that graced his gaze's path. However, at the moment, the symbols meant little to him by way of comprehension. Therefore he merely dismissed the characters as a work of stress or boredom and quickly turned to a new page. Jotting down the date, he leaned his head against his left hand, his fingers curling around his forehead.

_As with the case of my brother's mysterious sword, I am once again at the mercy of a powerful entity. My inner demon is either intrigued or frightened, and for him to become frightened of something, it has to be powerful. Apparently, Nero's devil trigger isn't his own, or so my demon side dictates. The apparition, which floats menacingly behind Nero during his trigger, is nothing more than the leftover human emotions of Vergil. What I don't understand is how could emotions be amassed into an object such as a sword? Only to be later transfigured into a living, breathing demon? Is that even possible? Another thing I didn't know about Nero is his arm is merely an infection derived from a demonic poison that he became exposed to sometime in his life. From all of the poisons I have encountered in my life, I've never come upon one so powerful that it actually corrupts the living being it comes into contact with. _

_Well, more on that later. Back to this spirit that lives within Nero, where did it come from anyway? Was he born with it, or is he possessed? Wow, and I thought I had it bad with just one demon inhabiting the same body as my human soul. This poor kid has two demons vying for purchase in his body, an infection that has taken over his whole right arm, and to top it all off, he had one fucked up childhood. Wait…that's it! Perhaps there is some kind of written record detailing this in the Galucian records. If I can locate a valuable source of material on their people, perhaps I can better understand the nature of Nero's inner spirit. And I could also stand to study up on these strange markings my pen just decided to scribble on the previous page, and hopefully figure out their meaning as well. _

Closing the small journal lightly, he placed the pen down on the exposed cover before standing from his chair. His inner demon's apparition had long since dissipated into the room's thin atmosphere, however its aura still remained. Glancing over his right shoulder toward the corner of his room, which was occupied by his stereo system, he glanced at the softly glowing letters stretching across the display strip. The afternoon had just begun, and yet the elder hunter felt as if the day was drawing to a close. He refused to think of himself as growing old, however, there were those occasional days where he couldn't help but feel his age creeping up on him. Groaning softly, he flexed his fingers a few times before traversing over to his door and unlocking it. He knew he would eventually have to face Nero sooner or later, so why not get the task done early so the memory would be forgotten quicker? As he drew closer to the banister, he halted his call of the youth's name once a conversation reached his ears.

…

Salidar tapped his right foot impatiently on the ground as he waited for his loyal creation to return with a telephone of any kind. The sun was now beginning to slowly descend over the mountains and the sirens, screams, and blood curdling roars had all but died away. The only thing that still reminded him of the town's utter demise were the plumes of smoke, which painted the sky black and rained ash. His gaze then redirected toward the captive woman named Kyrie. It had only been a few hours that she had graced him with her presence, and the ambassador had yet to move from her spot next to a demolished air vent. Salidar wrinkled the bridge of his nose as he continued to gaze upon her trembling form. It annoyed him to know that humans were so fragile and weak. Who's creation were they anyway? A being as high and mighty as a god would certainly have no use for them, and a demon lord wouldn't have the patience.

Either way, it made little difference. The human population spread like wildfire, and before neither he nor any of his demon brethren knew it, the mortal world was infested with these creatures. Their existence wouldn't really be a problem to the demons, that is if they enjoyed the taste of human flesh. Salidar shuddered from the thought of the vile substance; he would rather eat a continent's worth of dirt and mud before feasting on the flesh of a human. His ears twitched slightly as the sound of clinking graced his sense of hearing. A brief sigh of relief passed over his lips as Mortar finally returned from its search, holding a small cellular phone clenched in its jaw. Obediently plopping the phone in its master's outstretched hand, the obsidian creature purred softly as it enjoyed a few congratulatory pats on its head for a job well done.

"Well my dear," Salidar commented as he briskly paced over to where Kyrie was still sitting. "Now's your time to shine. Why don't you summon your little boyfriend so he can come and rescue you?"

"I would never do that to Nero!" Kyrie shouted, her features contorting into an expression of rage. "How dare you use me in your diabolical plot!"

"Feisty little thing aren't you?" the black-haired demon questioned stoically, a devious smirk tainting his lips. "Well, perhaps I should just send my pets over to the _Devil May Cry _to ambush your little boyfriend."

"How do you know where he is?" the ambassador questioned, her eyes growing wide in terror.

"My dear, it is quite easy to figure these little problems out," Salidar answered as he turned and casually walked back to where Mortar was sitting. "When you have a human with such a loud mind!"

Kyrie gasped as her right hand clamped shut over her golden wing pendant. She often generalized all demons as nothing more than mindless, savage hell spawn with no other purpose in life besides wreaking havoc. However, the demon that stood before her was not only a master of disguise, but could also read minds as well. If only she hadn't thought so frequently about Nero, then this other creature wouldn't know where he currently was. Saltine tears began to burn the backs of her eyes as thoughts of her ultimate betrayal to the half-breed plagued her mind.

"Now to you understand your options little girl?" the demon with amethyst eyes questioned softly as he slowly advanced upon her again. "Either you take this cell phone and summon your little boyfriend to give both him and you and fighting chance, or you can refuse and die here, while my pets ambush and kill him. Which will it be?"

The ambassador of Fortuna wiped away a few fresh tears as they fell before snatching the cellular phone out of Salidar's right hand. Inserting her right hand into the right pocket of her dress, she latched her fingers around a small parchment before retrieving it. With quivering fingers, she opened the folded parchment and dialed the number etched across its wrinkled surface. Kyrie then pressed the send button before lifting the object up to her left ear. More tears began to cascade down her face as the line began to ring. Her heartbeat quickened once the cadence of rings abruptly ended a few moments later.

"_Devil May Cry_," the digitized voice of Nero answered.

"Nero?" Kyrie questioned, obvious panic in her quivering voice.

"Kyrie, what's wrong?" the half-breed replied, concern saturating his tone.

"Nero, the city's under attack," she answered. "The demons that have attacked us have destroyed the Order and practically wiped out the city's population!"

"What?!" Nero shouted, his concern quickly morphing into anger. "What about you? Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm fine," Kyrie reassured. "However, I'm being held captive by the leader of this demon horde. He says he wants to fight you."

"Fine, I'm on my way then," the young slayer brashly proclaimed.

"Nero wait," the ambassador interjected. "Don't, it's a trap!"

However before she could order him to stay away from Fortuna and the ambush waiting for him, the line disconnected. Kyrie sighed heavily before sobbing into her hands. Everything was falling exactly into Salidar's hands. She didn't exactly know who this demon was or why he wished to destroy Fortuna and kill Nero, but she couldn't just stand idly by and wait for her future husband's ultimate demise. Wiping away her tears, she quickly stood onto her feet and marched over to where the obsidian-haired demon was currently standing, gazing out over the ruined city.

"You despicable creature!" Kyrie shouted as she chucked the cellular phone at him. "I won't let you hurt Nero!"

Salidar continued his vigilance over the smoldering city even after the cellular phone collided sharply with the back of his head. The ambassador's threat had little effect on him either, however, Mortar hissed sharply as she drew closer to its master. With newfound courage, Kyrie surged toward the disguised demon and began to viciously beat her fists upon his clothed back. Salidar sighed heavily as the human's antics began to annoy him, even if the abusive actions against him felt more like a soothing massage. Even though the woman didn't bother him, she was upsetting Mortar; therefore, corrective actions must be implied. With the agility of a cheetah, Salidar turned and caught Kyrie's right wrist in his left hand, constricting his grip to a painful caliber. Fortuna's ambassador cried out in pain as she began to pull against his grip, valiantly trying to free her captive wrist.

"My dear, you are really beginning to annoy me," he reprimanded sternly as his grip continued to constrict the captive appendage. "Need I remind you that your usefulness is complete? I will allow your behavior to slide this one time, however if you cross me again, or upset Mortar, you will be put to death, a very slow and painful death. Do you understand me?"

Kyrie ceased her frantic movements long enough to reply to Salidar's question before she was forcefully thrown to the side, colliding sharply with a broken satellite dish. Mortar's gaze followed the human woman's short flight before it began to snarl at her. The artificial creation's apprehension was quickly eased, however once its master began to lightly run the tips of his fingers along its elongated head. Its growling softened into a coo as it turned back to face Salidar, closing its eyes afterward as it enjoyed the soothing gesture.

"Now all we have to do is wait," the black-haired demon commented before he curled his left index finger and thumb in his mouth, whistling sharply as he exhaled.

A chorus of howls soon followed the command as the other obsidian creatures obeyed and returned to their master. The first to arrive was Sonar. The massive bird serenely soared overhead before sharply turning and descending toward the Order of the Sword's headquarters. Beating its enormous wings in quick cadences, Sonar slowed its pace before landing upon a small spire jutting forth from the roof. A quick and decisive squawk emanated forth from its sharpened beak before it busied itself with the task of preening its feathers. Thunderclaps and lightning strikes followed by a harrowing howl established the persona of the next creature to return from its day of destruction, Fuse. The canine-like creature quickly leapt from building to building before leaping toward the occupied rooftop, just managing to clear the threshold.

Fuse panted from the excursion before trotting over to its master. Salidar smiled warmly as he threaded his fingers through the creature's coarse, blood-soaked fur atop its head. Mortar snarled as it bared its teeth in jealousy toward Fuse. However, a quick reprimand from Salidar ended the exchange. The final pair of creatures to return to the rooftop were the streamlined, bladed serpents known as Razor and Edge. The contrasting serpents burrowed deep beneath the ground upon which the occupied building was stationed. From there, the two sliced through the building, ascending with god-like speed and fluidity. Fuse barked sharply before quickly vacating to the left in order to save its hide from being sliced into quarters as the twin serpents made their appearance known. The exchange prompted for the canine creature to begin barking at the serpents, which in turn hissed a reply in unison. Eventually Sonar and Mortar joined in the chorus of noise, to which Kyrie clamped her hands over her ears in order to save her hearing.

"That's enough my pets!" Salidar shouted, silencing all four creatures. "Save your energy. We are expecting company."

…

"Fine, I'm on my way then!" Nero justified before slamming the receiver down upon its ornate base.

The young slayer sighed heavily as he laid his forearms down upon the surface of Dante's desk. Placing his head down onto his clenched hands, he began to formulate a plan of attack in his subconscious. His original plan of attack from six years ago would require him rushing into the scene with guns blazing. He scoffed at the thought, moreover because those strategies only worked in the movies. Not only that, but the last time he rushed into a situation without thinking, he ended up ensnared in a putrid meat coffin with nothing to look forward to except the smell of rotting flesh. The mere thought of that incident made his skin crawl. However, he couldn't just spend the next few days planning either. Whatever happened to Fortuna in his absence was horrendous, and Kyrie was trapped all alone by some psycho demon and a horde of other malicious demons.

He groaned in frustration as he proceeded to bang his forehead against the wooden desk, loud thumping noises emanating with every collision. Meanwhile, Dante continued to observe the younger slayer as he punished himself for his misfortune in planning strategically. From his vantage point, he was able to eavesdrop on the rather short conversation, and if he knew Nero, the kid would jump at the chance to race all the way back to Fortuna in order to save his sweetheart. The fact that he was showing signs of restraint in order to plan his next move earned the elder's admiration. At least one of them was benefiting from growing older. However, even though he had wit and battle smarts on his side, he fell short in the category of cunning. It would do the elder hunter little to no good whatsoever to question Nero of whether or not he would require assistance. He would merely dismiss his help by explaining that this was his fight and he could handle it. But being the _guardian_ that he was, Dante would no doubt follow the kid and help him out anyway, whether or not he liked it.

"Hey kid," the experienced slayer called as he began to descend the stairs. "Who was on the phone just now?"

"Huh?" Nero questioned as he glanced up from the desk, a large, red mark occupying the middle of his forehead. "Oh, uh, someone who was looking for me."

"Oh I see," Dante replied, a slight smirk curling his lips. "And what did this someone want?"

"He called to tell me I'm needed back in Fortuna," the younger slayer answered as he quickly stood up straight, weaving his fingers together behind his back.

"Uh huh…right," the elder man commented, crossing his arms over his chest. "Any particular reason?"

"Look, all he said was that my presence is required okay?!" Nero shouted as he briskly paced over to where his weapons were placed.

"Fine, no need to get testy," Dante remarked, throwing his hands up in defense. "I was just curious. Oh, and any particular reason as to why you were banging your head on my desk?"

"Thinking," was the quick answer to his question, causing the larger slayer to raise one of his eyebrows.

"If that's the way you think," he began, watching as his comrade slipped into the shirt he was wearing earlier before traversing over to the closet. "I can't wait to see what you do when you plan."

"Shut up would you old man?" Nero retorted as he sorted through the varied and worn styles of crimson overcoats the elder kept. "Hey you mind if I borrow this?"

Dante sighed lightly as he turned to face the young hunter. He currently was holding out the overcoat he wore when he challenged the denizens of the Temen-Ni-Gru along with his brother Vergil so many long years ago. Through the years following the tower's destruction, his brother's _death_, and the reconstruction of Capulet City, the leather jacket had since been tailored and refurbished. Looking back on it now, the overcoat appeared to be brand new. However, he knew he wouldn't be able to wear it anymore for sentimental reasons as well as the fact that it was simply too small for him. Therefore, he nodded solemnly and held out his arms, wordlessly offering it to him. A brief smile curled the youth's features as he retrieved the hangar from under the fabric before quickly slipping his arms through the long sleeves.

"Perfect fit," Nero announced as he glanced over his being a few times.

"Well, it was made for the best," Dante commented as he tilted his head to the right slightly.

"I hope you're not talking about yourself old man," the young slayer remarked as he paced over to the leather couches, slipping his feet into his idle boots afterward.

"Well what if I was?" the elder hunter questioned, his voice carrying a tone of mock distain.

"Then I'd say you're one conceded son of a bitch," Nero answered coyly as he slung Red Queen over his left shoulder.

"Ooh, you hurt me right here kid," Dante exaggerated as he clutched dramatically to the left side of his shirt.

The slighter built slayer rolled his eyes at the elder's attempt to rile a reaction out of him. Six years ago, he would have taken the bait and started up an insult fight with him, but now it all seemed rather pointless. He smiled in spite of himself for actually taking responsibility for his actions by allowing the brewing emotions of frustration and anger to roll off of his shoulders. Just because Dante always chose to act like a child didn't necessarily mean he had to. Eventually, the elder slayer grew indifferent to how quickly the conversation was cut off. Therefore, he merely placed his hands on his hips as he continued to observe Nero preparing for his journey back to the castle town of Fortuna. Fastening Blue Rose's holster behind his left hip, the younger slayer briskly paced over to a small key rack stationed before the large ornate doors.

As he reached for his motorcycle's keys, a thought crossed his mind, which ultimately caused his hand to hesitate as his fingers grazed over the smooth metal. What if Kyrie was already dead? If the city was really destroyed with no survivors, would that mean that she was killed after that phone call? Or even worse, what if the whole thing was a trap set to lure him back to Fortuna so the demon in charge of the whole operation could obtain revenge for all of the demons he had killed during the hostile take-over by the Order? For every question, a thousand more would always resurface. However the sheer capacity of questions that began to plague his mind called for a massive headache to tear through his subconscious. Nero groaned softly as he pulled his hand away from the idle keys, the swift shift in movement causing the metallic objects to clink together. Dante, meanwhile began to wonder if the kid was all right since he remained glued to the spot before the door for over three or so minutes.

"Hey kid," he called as he advanced a few steps. "Are you alright?"

"Hey, Dante," Nero began as he turned to face his comrade. "I'm starting to think this is a trap."

"What do you mean?" Dante questioned furrowing his brow.

"That call that I received a few minutes prior," the youth explained, gesturing with his hands. "Well, the person on the other end wasn't an Order official, it was Kyrie."

The experienced hunter crossed his arms over his chest before shifting his weight over onto his right leg; his head tilting to the left slightly as he continued to absorb the information Nero presented him.

"Apparently, Fortuna is under attack by a group of demons that had managed to destroy everything and everyone in the city in one day," Nero continued, his gaze darting back and forth to random objects behind Dante before returning to intercept the hunter's gaze once more. "And now the demon leader has summoned me to fight him, otherwise he's going to kill Kyrie then come looking for me."

"Huh, is that so?" Dante commented as he averted his gaze to fall upon the polished floorboards of the office. "Well then, I'd say we better check it out. And while we're at it, let's have a demon barbeque."

"I'm just worried that they've already killed Kyrie," the younger slayer replied as he lightly rubbed his left forearm.

"Hey, don't say that kid," the elder slayer reassured as he lightly patted his comrade on his left shoulder. "You'll see her again, alive and well."

"I hope you're right," Nero remarked as he retrieved his motorcycle's keys, only to pause as he mentally reviewed their previous conversation. "Wait, did you say _we_, as in _a collaboration_?"

"That's right," Dante answered as he retrieved Rebellion from its resting place against the wall behind his desk. "You didn't actually think you were going to take on all those demons by yourself did you?"

"Actually Dante, for your sake I would feel better if you didn't come along," the crystalline blue-eyed man commented as he furrowed his brow.

"What?" the experienced hunter questioned. "But I thought we were a team kid. Don't you want my help?"

"It's not like that Dante, it's just," Nero began, pausing as a heavy sigh passed over his lips before he glanced down at the floor. "There's an extremely high chance that this is going to be a trap, and the demon leader isn't expecting anyone other than me. If I go alone, perhaps they won't go on high alert…do you understand where I'm coming from?"

The elder half-breed remained silent as he absorbed and contemplated Nero's words. Half of his mind believed that he was only lying through his teeth in order to steal all of the glory for exterminating the second demon uprising in Fortuna. While the other portion of his mind believed that the kid was only looking out for those that he cared about, and by sacrificing himself to the mercy of the demon leader, he hoped to save the lives of both his girlfriend and his comrade. Either way, Dante sighed heavily as he averted his eyes to fall upon the softly glowing jukebox in the far corner of the room. He then pursed his lips together before glancing back into Nero's patient gaze.

"Alright," Dante whispered, solemnly nodding his head. "If you feel that strongly about it, I won't stop you. Just please do me one favor."

"What is it?" the younger slayer questioned.

"Please, just come back alive," the elder hunter answered.

"Don't worry, I'll not only come home alive," Nero proclaimed as a confident smile curled his lips. "I'll bring home the demon leader's head as a trophy to hang on your wall."

Dante smirked as a soft chuckle vibrated his vocal chords. He had no doubt that the kid would be fine, however he didn't trust that the demon leader would keep the peace for very long. Demons were tricksters and backstabbers, even if someone were to strike a deal with them, they would never uphold their end of the bargain. Nero was no doubt heading into a trap that he might not escape from with his life intact. Dante swallowed past the forming lump in his throat as he watched his comrade open one of the large, ornate doors leading out into the brisk afternoon. He began to rake his teeth against the soft lining of his right cheek as he followed Nero outside. Leaning against the doorjamb, the elder man crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his gaze never faltering from the youth's movements. He was so absorbed in staring at Nero's preparations to leave that he didn't even notice a voluptuous, scantily clad woman with long blonde hair join him in company.

"Well, I'm off to Fortuna," Nero proclaimed as he kick-started his motorcycle before glancing back up at his comrade. "Try not to worry too much old man. That wouldn't be very good for your blood pressure!"

"Ah ha, good one kid!" Dante shouted over the roar of the vehicle's engine.

The younger slayer offered one final smile before he pulled his helmet over his head, the sun visor already lowered. Checking once more to assure that all of his weapons were securely fastened to either his body or the motorcycle, he revved the engine a few times before pushing up the kickstand and speeding off down the road. Dante's brow furrowed considerably as he nonchalantly waved _good-bye_ to his comrade, the woman's presence finally registering. However, instead of addressing her to start a conversation, he remained glued to the spot under the wide awning of the _Devil May Cry_. The blonde-haired woman tilted her head to the right as she glanced back and forth from the road to Dante, and back again.

"Are you sure you want to let him tackle this alone?" she questioned, gently placing her left hand onto his broad right shoulder. "This could get ugly."

"He said he didn't want my help," the elder hunter answered stoically as he turned and traversed back into the building, the woman following.

"That's never stopped you before though," she argued as she sauntered over to one of the leather couches before plopping down on it. "Has it?"

"No Trish," Dante replied as he leaned against his desk. "But, he sounded really serious about the matter. And you and I both know that the kid's girlfriend would become mince meat if the rules of the challenge summoning were to be broken."

"Dante, listen to yourself," Trish reprimanded as she crossed her legs. "I've never seen you act this cautious and hesitant before. It just doesn't suit you."

"Trish!" the elder man shouted as he hastily pushed himself away from the desk. "I gave my word to the kid that I wouldn't betray his trust. And I never break a promise!"

"That may be true," the blonde-haired woman began, her voice retaining a calm demeanor. "But think about it for once. That boy is heading straight into a trap. If you don't do something to help him, he won't be coming home alive."

Dante narrowed his eyes in anger and spite toward the woman before a heavy sigh caused him to glance away. He bowed his head in shame and embarrassment at the horrible mistake he had committed by allowing Nero to enter the hornet's nest without proper back-up. Trish registered his silence sympathetically, thus furrowing her brow in concern. She then sighed lightly before pushing herself up off of the couch and striding over to her partner in crime. The distinct click-clack of her high stiletto heels caused Dante's ears to twitch as the sound began to slowly crescendo. Even though the blonde-haired woman appeared to be the same age, if not younger, than himself, the elder hunter could easily recognize the motherly qualities she often portrayed when around him.

This notion was always obvious to him because Trish is the exact spitting image of his deceased mother Eva, right down to the tone of her voice. However, unlike his mother, she didn't baby him; a quality he actually enjoyed. Dante harbored no doubt when it came to describing Trish's beauty. No wonder his father fell in love. If it weren't for the fact that she looked exactly like his mother, he would have dated her. The only thing he found to be rather confusing is his heated interest in Nero. He had only known the kid sparingly for about a few days tops, and yet he discovered something rather alluring about him. Perhaps he was allowing his demon side to think for him a little too often. Or maybe he was just lonely and loved the companionship. Either way, he was infatuated.

"Dante," Trish addressed as she placed her left hand onto his right shoulder, eventually gaining his attention. "Perhaps it would serve the greater good if you just followed Nero to Fortuna to assist him in the demon extermination. Who knows, you might just save his life."

"You're right Trish," Dante acknowledged as he recollected his weapons. "Screw what Nero said about going in alone! I'm helping him, whether he likes it or not!"

A confident smile curled the hunter's lips as he twirled Ebony and Ivory around his trigger fingers before holstering the twin handguns. He then curled his right hand around Rebellion's glimmering handle before sliding it into its sheath over his right shoulder. Quickly pacing over to the small key rack, he retrieved his own motorcycle's keys before waving a brief salutation to his business partner.

"Off to Fortuna," he announced as he pushed open one of the double-hinged ornate doors. "To kick some demon ass."


	6. Mission 6: Steeplechase

What's up guys, sorry for the long wait for an update, *shoots self*. College is starting to take a toll on my nerves, and my Illustration teacher's an asshole. Well, with that aside, I hope this chapter was worth the wait. As an added bonus for all of you wonderful readers who have read/commented/faved this story, this chapter is about three or so pages longer than the others and I've added a special treat at the end for y'all. ^_^

**SirenaLoreley**: Thanks muchly for your continued love/support of this story. Therefore...*hands you ten Lucifer roses* ^_^ and yes Dante will be kicking some major demon ass. :D

**Rainbowalike**: Thank you. I basically felt that Nero and Dante always seem to either fight constantly, or fall madly in love with each other from the get go. Sure there were some apparent undertones of a relationship in the game, however in the end, it seemed to me that they really hit it off. However, in the real world, relationships need time to build, therefore more chapters! :D

**Mirabell**: Aw thanks for your support. I'm glad you like this story. Well, they say with age comes wisdom. Not only that, but I really didn't think he acted like a punk in the game. He was just confused and upset by the turn of events. By the way, what's an ngrat?

**Arrana**: Thanks. I'm glad you enjoy the interactions. And fear not, for Vergil will soon be making his appearance as a major influence soon. :D

**Nerinna**: Aww, thanks so much. I'm pleased that my writing is to your enjoyment. ^_^

**Brillis**: Wow, I'm flattered you think that. *gives you cookies* Thanks for your support. ^_^

**MadameButterfly**: Thank you, and I do prefer to take my time mostly for the fact that I write from observation of the people and whatnot in my environment. Usually if I have an engaging conversation with someone, some of the elements of that conversation I work into my story so it seems more realistic. Plus the length of time between updates gives me _time_ to think of a better structure for the next chapter. ^_^

**Lilianna**: I own them all? Wow, thanks. *gives you cookies* I'm estatic that you are pleased with my writing. :D

**Namarie**: Aww, *blushes* Thank you. *gives you a kiss back coupled with a hug* ^_^

**Wonderer**: I'm glad you enjoy reading my fanfiction. I felt that an older Nero would be better suited for this story mostly because in my opinion, age brings wisdom, therefore I wondered, "What would Nero be like when he more or less _grew up_?" Besides, mature adults are always easier to work with when writing stories. Not only that, but as you said, a lot of stories lately have been portraying Nero as a cocky punk. Therefore, I wanted to go against the grain and see what would happen. *high fives back*

**Clemenstines8**: Aw thanks. And fear not for your wait is over. ^_^

**Milcza**: Thanks, and welcome to the DMC universe. Please enjoy your stay, and we hope you visit often. :D Woot for DantexNero! ^_^

**Terra**: Thanks for your support. :D

**Brittany**: I'm glad you enjoy this story. ^_^

**Milena**: Your wait is over! Enjoy. ^_^

**Armelle**: Thank you for your support. Continue, I shall. :D

**SilverDragon88**: Woot, kudos to an older Nero! ^_^ The whole spirit thing kind of came to me while I was watching Princess Mononoke. It was during one of the many forest scenes with the _Great Spirit_ when I thought, "I wonder what it would be like if Nero actually had a kind of guiding spirit rather than a demon..." then ta-dah, the new plot twist was born. Yay! Anyway, more on his inner spirit in later chapters, as well as various happenings with the demon possessing him. I won't give away too much, but as a teaser, Nero's inner spirit and demon will eventually wage war for the possession of Nero's body. D8 suspense....^_^

**Gil Galad**: I'm glad you enjoy the pairing, and sorry for the confusion, but the relationship between Dante and Vergil won't escalate to more than brothers. The inclusion of the pain Dante encounters when he discover's Vergil's overcoat is actually something I ad-libbed after watching the scene in the third game when Dante watches Vergil fall into the abyss of the underworld. To me it seemed like actually watching a family member sacrifice themself, and not be able to do anything about it would really hit hard in the long run. Plus I wanted to inject a scene where Dante becomes vulnerable to his human emotions early on to provide a broader image to his character. Sure the game portrays him as the badass, trash-talking protagonist...while I wanted to keep that image, I also wanted to portray the fact that, just like Nero, Dante too has grown older, and wiser as well. I'm flattered that you enjoy my personification of Vergil. I will say though that his character was complicated to flesh out, especially with such a limited window detailing from the game. However to me, Vergil is like the college graduate version of Dante. While he shares his brother's temper, he's more analytical than Dante is. As for critiques, don't feel that you should refrain from writing a note about what you wouldn't mind seeing included in future chapters. To me writing is all about pleasing the masses, and while I may not please everyone who would happen to read my work, I wouldn't mind adjusting a few things, which in the end might be better for the story's overall outlook. Thanks muchly for your support and long comments! ^_^

**Mismatch**: It's a pleasure to meet another DantexNero fanatic. ^_^ And fear not for I don't plan on including either Vergil or Kyrie in a love triangle in any way. Vergil's inclusion is basically just another supporting character that will ultimately help to move the plot along. Even though I do plan on orchestrating multiple interactions between Dante and Vergil, their relationship will be firmly cemented to that of brothers. Sorry for worrying you. *hands you cookies and gives you a hug* ^_^

**Celcius**: I'm glad you enjoy this story, and more has arrived! ^_^

**Naolith**: Thanks for your support, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I'm also pleased that you can clearly picture what's happening. I tend to write stories on what would happen, both major and subtle, like it was a movie or something. I find that if one were to write stories similar to how they would watch a movie, the audience would be able to create a more accurate mental picture. ^_^

As an added bonus, I've decided to answer my reviewers' questions and thank them personally for their continued support. While I don't like to whore for comments, they are appreciated, therefore I thank everyone who has commented so far, and if you have any questions or suggestions for this story's future, just write a review. ^_^ Thanks again everyone, and enjoy chapter six. :D

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The waning rays of sunlight filtered lazily over the distant horizon line as the radiant disk began to set. The streets began to fill as well, with work-worn people eager to relax at home and unwind. Nero however proceeded to grind his teeth together in frustration as he skillfully wove in and out of lengthy traffic lines, thus prompting many irate drivers to blare their horns at his nimble vehicle. The half-breed paid them little to no attention as he continued to skip through the lanes, his destination still many miles down the road. Quickly glancing down at his speedometer, Nero noted that his motorcycle was already rebelling against the viable speed limit, however at the moment, he could really care less. His only motive that drove him to break the law, pun intended, was the anticipation of his beloved girlfriend dying by the hands of a wicked demon. Revving his vehicle's engine, he sped forward toward a massive, and crowded bridge.

"Oh great," Nero muttered to himself as he approached he daunting edifice.

Rush hour traffic currently clogged all three lanes of highway stretching across the massive bridge on either side of the concrete divider. Commuters brave enough to take risks, skillfully wove in and out of congested traffic lanes in favor of a lane moving more smoothly. The young slayer sighed heavily before contemplating his plan of attack for crossing the congested bridge without having to necessarily slow down. Since the rays of sunlight aided in miniscule measures, Nero quickly unclipped his helmet and slung it around his right handlebar, the strap secured behind the rear-view mirror. Squinting from the wind whipping mercilessly in and around his face, the half-breed began to search frantically for either a carpool lane or a service path.

Revving his engine, Nero sped forward, the highlighted orange needle on his speedometer steadily rising to the seventy miles-per-hour mark. The bridge was a mere fifty yards from his position before he finally located a pedestrian walkway along the edge of the bridge. He smirked once he discovered the alternate route, however the walkway was very narrow, and curved around the outer edge of the bridge. Narrowing his eyes in preparation, he lowered his torso closer to the motorcycle's roaring engine. Steadily, he gunned the vehicle, urging it to go faster as he drew even closer to the entrance of the bridge.

"Now!" he shouted as he quickly kicked off of the pavement beneath him, pulling back on the motorcycle's handlebars afterward.

The vehicle's engine roared in quick, decisive bursts as the momentum it generated from the speed Nero forced it to exceed aided in catapulting the two off of the pavement and into the air. Many of the pedestrians along the walkway proceeded to scream and flee as a massive motorcycle careened through the air toward their location. The young hunter grit his teeth as he carefully angled his two-wheeled vehicle along the pedestrian path. He then closed his eyes and braced for impact as gravity reclaimed the daring rebels. Upon landing, the motorcycle's chasse scraped along the concrete path, spewing sparks as its shocks flexed, recoiling it back into a favorable position. The rippling shockwave also caused Nero's body to collide in an unforgivable manner against the motorcycle's metal-plated gas tank.

He coughed as a result, gasping for stolen air afterward. Shaking his head briefly to regain focus, the half-breed revved his motorcycle's engine as he sped down the pedestrian walkway. Shouting orders and obscenities, he valiantly tried to warn people on the walkway to vacate the area lest they wish to become road kill. Once he was halfway across the walkway, various sirens began to filter over his engine's roar. The familiar wail of police sirens caused for the youth to tense his muscles, his fingers curling nervously around his handlebars' grips. Tearing his gaze away from the opposite end of the bridge, he glanced to his left only to notice the obsidian and ivory coloring of a sleek police car with flashing red and blue overhead lights speeding along the carpool lane. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he briefly shook his head as he reverted his gaze back toward the quickly approaching conclusion of the pathway.

"So, you looking to play huh?" Nero shouted in a taunting manner as he revved his vehicle's engine a few times.

A crooked smirk curled the boy's lips as he sped back onto the highway, the shift from concrete to pavement causing his motorcycle's tires to skid a few times to adjust to the slick surface. Pulling hastily on his brake levers, he turned around on his seat to face the quickly approaching police vehicles. His cocky smirk morphed into a toothy grin as the law enforcement vehicles maneuvered around his purring motorcycle, various officers quickly vacating from their cars in order to apprehend the criminal.

"Well officers," he began calmly, revving his motorcycle's engine for emphasis as he lowered his torso closer to the vehicle. "Let's play shall we?"

Pulling back on the handlebars, Nero twisted the throttle. The rear tire squealed from the overbearing pressure provided by the motorcycle's inertia before friction propelled the object forward. The young slayer's strength coupled with the initial propulsion of the rear tire allowed for the front of the vehicle to reach skyward. Nero voiced his excitement as he centered his weight and the motorcycle's weight onto the spinning rear tire, pulling the infamous wheelie maneuver. The officers gasped in surprise before barking orders to each other, collectively shouting to vacate the area. Nero chuckled to himself as he slammed the inclined chasse of his motorcycle into two intersecting police cars, successfully pushing both out of his direct path. Another victory howl vibrated his vocal chords as he sped down the road, his crimson overcoat billowing wildly from the generated updraft.

Quickly recovering from the surprise of the young criminal's spectacle, the law enforcement officers sprinted back to their vehicles. Two of the undamaged police cars sped off down the road after the perpetrator, while three others followed, eventually branching off onto various back roads in order to cut the fleeing youth off down the road. The remaining vehicles, which suffered damage from the hostile escape maneuver, quickly reported that a young man with silver hair and a massive sword slung around his back in a crimson overcoat was en route to the outskirts of Capulet City. Switching on their overhead lights and sirens, the two remaining vehicles gave chase, requesting back up as they sped down the road.

Nero meanwhile grit his teeth before glancing over his shoulder at the posse of law enforcement vehicles that were hot on his trail. He cursed under his breath as he gunned the engine for all it was worth. The small engine roared ferociously as the burst of fuel caused the vehicle to lurch forward before pulling away from the law's blaring headlights. Quickly glancing over his shoulder, he smirked in satisfaction as he ever so slowly began to escape their field of vision. However, the roar of an airborne engine caused his ears to twitch. Averting his gaze skyward, a police helicopter soon entered his field of vision, a radiant spotlight tracking his movements. The light's initial contact with his gaze burned his eyes, causing him to quickly clamp his eyes shut. Nero began to thrash his head from side to side as the sting of the unforgiving searchlight caused for his eyes to water. This exchange led him to relax his grip on the throttle, the motorcycle slowly losing speed.

"Fuck!" the half-breed cursed as he gunned the throttle again, his demonic arm flashing a vibrant azure.

A low inhuman growl echoed in his throat as the demon within his subconscious began to stir. Nero's demonic growl soon escalated to a blood-curdling roar as his irises blazed a vibrant crimson. In the seconds that followed, the young hunter's body gained a soft, pulsating glow as the demon fully awoke. The officers in the leading vehicle furrowed their brows as they observed the apparent changes affecting the fleeing youth. The pulsating aura radiated its stored demonic energy in a timed cadence for approximately five cycles before the possessed slayer fluxed. The resulting shockwave quickly extended outward in a spherical projection, distorting everything the wave of energy contacted. First was the lead police car, which was easily lifted off of the ground and hurled back into the vacant road a mile or so away. Next the helicopter's navigational and operating computers began to malfunction. The panicking pilots frantically depressed button after flashing button as the man-made bird began to plummet toward the ground, its rotating blades slowing down.

Nero panted as he harshly pulled on the left brake pedal, ceasing the front tire's movements instantly. The tire squealed from the friction of the road coupled with the motorcycle's momentum, which caused the vehicle to fish tail. Grinding the heel of his right boot into the asphalt of the road, the young slayer bared his teeth as his glowing eyes fixated their combined gaze on the frantic braking of the collaboration of the surviving law enforcement vehicles twenty yards before him. The officers, who operated the vehicles, were disoriented as they scrambled from their cars, their weapons of choice aimed at his forehead. He narrowed his eyes as a snide smirk creased his lips. Flexing the tense fingers of his left hand, Nero extended his arm back until his palm collided with the rough surface of his sword's handle. He then wrapped his fingers around the weapon before slowly unsheathing it. The demonic grin remained plastered onto his features as he slowly extended his left arm out perpendicular to his body, the menacing blade glittering in the combined flashes of the crimson and azure lights from the police vehicles.

"He's armed!" one of the officers shouted. "Fire!"

Similar to a lit chain of firecrackers, the remaining officers fired their weapons. A barrage of bullets tore through the air faster than the human eye could follow and one by one, each man-made projectile hit their mark, or so the officers thought. A serene moment of silence washed over the scene as a strong gust of wind filtered over the otherwise vacated road. Thick plumes of smoke rising from the nearby blazing inferno caused from the crashes of the lone police car and helicopter eventually became swept up in the gust of wind, filtering out the results of the squadron's round of fire. The congregation of officers waited in anticipation for a reaction from the suspect as the inferno's blaring racket, coupled with the obscuring smoke prevented them from discovering the results of their assault. Many of the younger officers began to slowly lower their weapons, as they strained their eyes to see through the smoke. However, a sinister chuckle soon vibrated ominously over the roaring flames.

"Nice try," a demonic voice chided as a brief glint of light radiated through the thick smoke. "But I'm afraid your worldly weapons are no match against me."

The officers barely obtained the chance to gasp before a figure quickly emerged from the veil of smoke. Nero howled in bloodlust as he gunned his motorcycle's engine, the small vehicle careening toward the semi-circle of law enforcement vehicles. For the unfortunate officers at the front of the pack, mercy was swiftly forgotten as the razor-sharp blade of the man's sword careened toward them. The act of violence lasted naught but a second, however the resulting carnage prompted the surviving officers to either shoot at the deranged man, flee into the surrounding environment for cover, or scramble into their cars to request back up. Nero smiled venomously as the torso of the first officer he struck slowly slid off of the rigid lower section it was once connected to. The second unfortunate officer made a valiant attempt to dodge the wicked blade by ducking under it, however, in doing so, his head suffered the same fate his comrade's torso had endured. Both lifeless bodies collapsed onto the pavement, valuable blood coupled with vital organs readjusting to the sudden changes in position.

The various screams filtering through the atmosphere caused for Nero's ears to twitch before he reverted his glowing gaze upon three more unlucky souls who would soon be charged with aggravated assault. Raising his sword skyward, the possessed youth revved the engine of his motorcycle before surging after a congregation of fleeing officials. The roar of the vehicle's engine drowned out any pleas for mercy the officers were spouting as he swiftly drew closer to the fleeing group. Lowering his sword's tip to scrape against the uneven ground, Nero quickly sliced his blade in an upward arc, cleaving one officer's body in half. Blood splattered onto the youth's twisted features as he quickly gained purchase upon the remaining two members of the party. Gripping the handle of his sword tightly within his grasp, the young demon slayer thrust the weapon before him, impaling one officer through his abdomen. Twisting his wrist, Nero flipped the position of his blade in the officer's body before swiftly pulling the sword skyward. The second victim of the group's body collapsed lifelessly upon the rocky ground, nearly all of his partially cleaved organs and bones sliding out of the limp body.

Snorting, the youth focused on the remaining member who had begun to take shelter in a nearby tree. Tilting his head to the left, Nero cracked his neck a few times before revving the engine and coasting toward the natural edifice. As fate would have it, the officer was actually quite skilled in scaling trees as she was already nearing the summit of the massive object. Pushing the kickstand down, the demon slayer carefully alighted from his motorcycle before proceeding to circle the base of the tree ominously. Propping his blood stained sword over his left shoulder, Nero fixed his gaze upon the retreating body of the targeted officer. Once she eventually reached a high enough branch, the panicking officer bartered a glance down at her hunter, his piercing eyes staring straight through her pale green eyes. For a moment, she kept her gaze fixated upon the curious and blood hungry youth, pondering why he did not pursue her into the foliage. Perhaps he was afraid of heights? Or maybe he could not climb trees. Either way, she was safe from his rampage for the moment. Nero's malevolent demon cooed softly as it continued to stare up at its out of reach prey.

He flared his nostrils before eventually averting his gaze to fall upon the blazing inferno his apparent rage had caused. He blinked nonchalantly as his gaze followed the dancing spires of the rippling flames. The mere sight of the spectacle slowly began to mesmerize the violent demon. Holding her breath, the officer perched atop the tree, bravely began to descend, planning a break for her vehicle in order to escape. However, with the first step she took, the branch snapped under her weight. She gasped as her muscles tensed. A sharp hiss vibrated Nero's vocal chords as he glared up at the suspended woman. The hiss quickly escalated into a growl as his demonic right arm pulsated. Curling his clawed fingers into a tight fist, he quickly thrust the appendage skyward, a massive projection of his arm materializing before the woman's quivering body. She barely managed a scream of horror before the manifestation wrapped its five clawed fingers around her body.

"Hello my dear," Nero greeted as he plucked the officer from her perch. "So nice of you to join me. It's just such a shame that I'm going to have to kill you now."

The officer was not offered the opportunity to voice a command before her body was forcefully slammed onto the unforgiving ground. A murderous smirk curled the youth's lips as his devil bringer dissipated, replaced by his own demonic hand. A sinister laugh cascaded past his lips as his clawed fingers began to steadily clench around the poor woman's skull, her screams of anguish muffled considerably by his radiant palm. Nero slowly began to narrow his eyes in disgust as he continued to constrict his grip, the jubilant sound of bone cracking only adding fuel to his unstable internal fire. Eventually, the pressure of his grip was too much for the strength of the woman's skull, therefore the bone crumbled under his hand instantly silencing the suffering officer. However, the insignificant death of a mortal only seemed to agitate the demon as his grip continued to build, ultimately liquefying the deceased woman's brain tissue and facial structure. Eventually, Nero's growl escalated into a devious howl, which echoed menacingly across the landscape.

Finally releasing the remains of the officer's head from his grip, Nero stood up and turned back to face the carnage he was so enamored by just moments prior. Clenching his hands into tight fists, the half-breed clamped his eyes shut tightly, baring his teeth as he bowed his head. Eventually, the swelling emotions within his subconscious burst through, the raging thoughts vocalized in an echoing scream, which began to increase in pitch as the murderous demon retreated back into the dark recesses of his mind. At last the suffocating curse within his body had vacated, and he was once again in complete control of his mind. Nero's scream faltered slightly before ceasing as he fell onto his knees. Hot tears began to pour down his blood stained features as the realization of the heinous crimes he had just willingly committed began to bear heavily down upon him. His pristine silver lochs slowly cascaded over his forehead, creating a mediocre shield for his eyes as to hide them from the painful carnage that lay before him. Slowly, he lifted his hands into his field of view, various bloods from many innocent victims streaming down the flexed extremities. Nero then began to violently shake them to rid his hands of the blood, rivers of tears pouring down his heated cheeks.

"W-what have I done?" he cried as he buried his face in his hands, sobbing into the extremities afterward.

A gentle breeze steadily filtered over the landscape as the inferno slowly began to dissipate. Nero's demonic arm pulsated a soft azure to accentuate his emotions. Sniffling, the youth began to inhale deeply before exhaling slowly, gradually calming his breathing. As he exhaled a shaky breath, he rubbed his left forearm across his moist eyes. He then stood back onto his feet before pacing over to his purring motorcycle. Sheathing his sword, he swung his right leg over the vehicle's idle leather cushion. Pushing up the kickstand with the toe of his left boot, he revved the abused engine a few times. However before he pushed off to continue his journey toward Fortuna, a sharp searing pain radiated across his pectoral muscles before centering on a small stretch of skin covering the spot where his heart pulsated in a natural cadence.

Gritting his teeth, Nero hissed from the sudden spike of pain, eagerly clawing at the shirt he wore before pulling at the elastic collar. Glancing down at his left pectoral muscle, he furrowed his brow as a small pulsating character appeared. Pursing his lips together, the youth dipped his head slightly to better observe the newly acquired tattoo. His eyes began to follow the short, yet decisive marks as they elegantly portrayed a symbol just beyond his comprehension. Curiosity eventually overcame his hesitation as he began to prod the mark, ultimately serving to cause a searing pain to blaze through his system. Shaking his head briefly, Nero smoothed out his shirt before revving his engine and coasting back toward the road, continuing along the winding path once his vehicle's tires rejoined the slick surface.

…

Meanwhile, in the middle of Capulet City, Dante groaned loudly as he coasted to a complete stop before yet another consecutive streetlight. Glancing to his right, he noted the diminishing natural light the sun provided as it sunk deeper below the horizon line. Night was not too far away, and if he knew Capulet City, the late hours of the evening through to the very early hours of the next day were prime time for various criminals and troublemakers alike. And with Nero in a rather frantic state of mind himself, he wouldn't know how to weasel his way out of a situation. Sure he would have no problems defending himself, however, the vandals that prowl the streets at night fight dirty and often travel in packs of about twenty-five to forty members. The kid would be gunned down in no time, even with the help of his demon side. The half-breed anxiously revved his motorcycle's engine as the streetlight changed to green.

Glancing down at his speedometer, Dante noted that he unwillingly had to obey the speed limit for the time being. Capulet's system of men, and women, in blue had steadily begun to increase the potency of law enforcement. The slayer's crystalline-blue eyes calmly scanned every overpass he came upon, only to narrow his eyes as two decently hidden patrol vehicles graced his vision. Along with increased enforcement was the staggering increase in the fines and tickets the officials seemed to ever so eagerly hand out. So far, he had managed to sweet-talk his way out of paying for the pricey violation tickets. However, he knew that sooner or later, he would encounter an officer just as sly as he was. Dante shuddered at the thought. While he highly respected and revered the valiant men and women in blue, he could really care less about how they managed to keep the general population safe. Switching on his motorcycle's headlights, the half-breed twisted the throttle before speeding off down the road, a smirk curling his lips.

"Eh, I've out-run these guys before," he noted confidently. "I've seen all of their maneuvers and tricks. Hell, if they know what's good for them, they'll just leave me alone."

Electricity crackled along his motorcycle's network of cables and wires as the vehicle lurched forward, the miniscule highlighted needle in the speedometer quickly rising above the sixty-five mile-per-hour mark. Dante groaned low in his throat as the wind he rapidly displaced around his body mercilessly assaulted his face, hair, and overcoat, the crimson article of clothing billowing wildly behind him. Shaking his head violently, he quickly lowered his body against the roaring vehicle's vibrating chasse. Meanwhile, atop a hill overlooking the somewhat deserted interstate, two officers in a patrol car kept a loyal vigilance over the traffic flow. The officer in the driver's seat yawned from boredom as his partner busied his mind with a novel.

"Home base to patrol Two-Seven-Three-B," a digitized female voice called on the idle CB radio. "Come in patrol Two-Seven-Three-B."

Finally eager to obtain the chance for some action, the officer in the driver's seat plucked the small receiver from its port on the radio before depressing a small trigger on the outer rim of the object.

"Patrol Two-Seven-Three-B reporting," the officer answered, his partner glancing up from his book. "What is the situation?"

"Be on the lookout for a dangerous criminal heading south on Interstate ninety-three," the female reported, her voice slightly distorted from electromagnetic interference due to other signals radiating from the passing cars below. "The suspect is a young man with silver hair, wearing a crimson overcoat and carrying a large sword across his back. His mode of transportation is a sport motorcycle."

"Copy that," the officer replied. "Ten-four."

Following the conclusion of the broadcast, the officers witnessed a man, who appeared to have fit the description perfectly, speed past their position under the overpass their patrol car was perched upon. The soft glow of the streetlights, which highlighted a traffic sign detailing about the road's name and destination, provided the officers a more accurate picture of the possible suspect. The man of piqued interest had silver lochs, a flowing crimson overcoat along with a massive broadsword slung across his back, was also currently operating a sport motorcycle. Blinking in surprise, the two officers glanced at each other before the one stationed in the driver's seat eagerly twisted the idle keys in the ignition, the vehicle's engine roaring to life. Flicking on their overhead lights and siren, the patrol car sped down the inclined exit ramp. As his partner concentrated on catching up to the suspect, the officer in the passenger's seat retrieved the CB radio's receiver.

"Home base this is patrol Two-Seven-Three-B," he reported, his fingers trembling slightly from adrenaline. "Come in home base."

"Home base," the familiar female voice answered. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"We have the suspect within our sights," the officer commented as he glanced up at the motorcycle mere yards before the vehicle. "He's heading south on Interstate ninety-three toward Conrad."

"Copy that," the female replied. "Sending reinforcements now."

Dante sighed heavily as he rolled his eyes. The officers in Capulet never allowed for any offense to go unnoticed, even if it was a mere traffic violation. He harbored no doubts when figuring that the fact that he was speeding would warrant him a ticket. However, with the interstate roads pretty much bare, the half-breed did not see the immediate cause for him to receive one. Shaking his head, he glanced over his right shoulder. The blaring headlights of the patrol car in pursuit of his vehicle, along with the flashing red and blue overhead lights caused Dante to squint his eyes, his pupils contracting to mere dots. Growling low in his throat, the experienced devil slayer narrowed his eyes before reverting his attention back onto the road. The law always uncovered options and methods to keep the people of Capulet in check. However, with the immediate trouble brewing in Fortuna, and Nero somewhere between his position and the foreboding city, he had no reason for slowing down to receive his record of punishment.

Revving his motorcycle's engine, Dante sped forward, managing to escape the unforgiving glare of the law enforcement vehicle's headlights. His ears twitched slightly from the increased roar of the wind whipping past his body and vehicle, his coat flapping mercilessly in the gale. The officers trailing the suspect narrowed their eyes in frustration at the stubborn criminal. Constricting his fingers around the polyvinyl steering wheel, the officer in the driver's seat increased the pressure on the gas pedal, causing for the car to lurch forward, its engine roaring from the exchange. Dante's annoyance with the officials in pursuit of him soon escalated. Baring his teeth, he clenched his fingers tightly around the rubber grips of his motorcycle's handlebars. Crimson electricity crackled along his tense form as his inner demon roared deep within his subconscious.

The half-breed snarled as he prepared to momentarily abandon his vehicle in favor of destroying the one trailing him. However, he quickly shook his head, wordlessly soothing his inner demon. He had more pressing matters to attend to. If he had momentarily halted his progress toward Fortuna to apprehend the law enforcement officials, Nero could have already fallen prey to the demons patiently awaiting his arrival. Exhaling a short breath, Dante lowered his body closer to his roaring motorcycle, granting him a quicker pace in exchange for the depleted resistance caused by the wind. The officers in the patrol car began to grind their teeth as their suspect once again began to evade their sights. However the promising wail of two more police vehicles eased their tension as reinforcements finally began to arrive.

"What the hell?" Dante shouted as the road before him yielded a clot of flashing red and blue lights stretching across the width of the highway.

Mere miles up the interstate; a roadblock had been erected in order to apprehend the fleeing criminal. To reinforce the lethality of the block, spike strips lined both sections of the highway on either side of the row of cars. Therefore, if the suspect would indeed surge into their line of vehicles, he would not be able to get very far following his rebellion. Dante sighed heavily as a crooked smirk curled the right corner of his lips. Not only were Capulet police officers annoying in their own right, they were also very thorough. Criminals would have to make a pact with the devil in order to evade arrest. However, Dante was not a normal criminal. Revving his engine, he sped closer toward the roadblock; the ominous spike strips mere yards before him glistening innocently.

"What's this guy doing?" the officer stationed in patrol car 273B's passenger seat questioned. "He's actually speeding up."

"Crazy son of a bitch," his partner commented as he slowed his vehicle to avoid the spike strips.

The half-breed smiled wickedly as he lowered his body onto the polished tank of the motorcycle. He narrowed his eyes as he focused on the spike strips' positions. The officers watching the scene from their patrol vehicles began to tense as they pondered whether or not the crazed suspect was actually going to stop. Dante sighed a retort as he thrust his right leg onto the asphalt below, pulling back on the handlebars as he did so. The resulting force catapulted the roaring motorcycle skyward. The experienced slayer grit his teeth in concentration as his sapphire-blue eyes focused on the concrete divider mere inches to his left. The strip dividing the two three-lane highways was narrow and hazardously damaged. He had only one miniscule chance of successfully landing his motorcycle on the object. If he failed or lost his concentration for a fraction of a second, he would ultimately crash. And at the speed he was currently traveling, the unforgiving asphalt would ultimately lead to his demise. The whole process itself deemed worthy to warrant a miracle.

Time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl as Dante's vehicle careened serenely over the first strip of spikes, angling toward the narrow concrete path to salvation. His engine roared loudly as the vehicle's chasse soared through the air, its intended destination drawing ever closer. The officers stared wide-eyed in astonishment as the suspect catapulted his motorcycle over their spike strips. Slowly exhaling his held breath, Dante eased his vehicle's rapidly spinning front tire down toward the thin strip of concrete. The minor surreal lapse in time quickly dissipated once the experienced devil hunter's vehicle collided with the divider, the vibrantly painted chasse scraping noisily against the coarse material. Gritting his teeth together, Dante quickly adjusted to the swift shift before revving the motorcycle's engine, thus prompting the burst of speed following afterward.

"Yahoo!" he howled as his motorcycle sped along the flat surface of the divider. "Yeah baby!"

The gaggle of officers left in the slayer's wake stared in disbelief at the spectacle they had just witnessed. How it was possible for anyone to launch a motorcycle onto a dangerously thin strip of concrete with the precision of a machine was anyone's guess. The sheer impossibility that was proven false before their eyes caused many veteran officers to scratch their scalps in confusion. Dante smirked triumphantly as he glanced over his right shoulder before saluting the law enforcement officials in a mocking fashion. The gesture disgusted many of the officers, who quickly retreated into their vehicles. However before they managed to turn their vehicles in the desired direction to give chase to the man in the crimson overcoat, he, along with his motorcycle were out of their sights. Many of the officers cursed loudly before slamming their fists down atop the chasse of the shared vehicles, the flashing crimson and azure lights bathing the environment with their varied pulses.

Dante sighed heavily as he reverted his attention back onto the miniscule divider's surface. Since the group of officers, as well as their dangerous road traps, were far behind him, the slayer formulated a plan to return his motorcycle onto the road. Inhaling deeply, he constricted his fingers around the vehicle's rubber gripped handlebars. He then lowered his body closer to the sleek, painted tank of the motorcycle before thrusting his body upward. His vehicle complied obediently as it followed its master skyward. Slowly exhaling, Dante eased the handlebars down toward the road. The spinning front tire squealed slightly upon contacting the smooth asphalt of the highway. The demon slayer smiled in satisfaction as he straightened his back before twisting the throttle on his right handlebar. The purring motorcycle roared loudly as the powerful engine shot the vehicle's chasse forward. A confident smirk curled Dante's lips as a reflective road sign informed him of the next town he would be traveling into. His smirk however, quickly began to fade as a distinct burning sensation flared along his pectoral muscles. He furrowed his brow before relinquishing his grip on the left handlebar. Gritting his teeth, the experienced slayer coarsely rubbed his tensed palm over his clothed chest. The action only further escalated the pain.

In a matter of moments, the flaring pain in his chest focused around his left pectoral muscle. The decrease in surface area prompted the significant increase in pain. Clutching to his obsidian shirt for dear life, Dante's breathing became increasingly labored as his vision blurred in and out of focus. His physical suffering eventually began to affect his concentration of operating the motorcycle. Upon achieving the distance of the outskirts of the city of Conrad, the somewhat crippling pain pulsating in the slayer's chest spiked. Dante cried out in agony before constricting his grip on the throttle. The rebellious vehicle roared from the shot of gasoline, surging forward. Unable to focus on the road or his equilibrium, the demon hunter, as well as his motorcycle cascaded onto the unforgiving surface of the highway. Upon its initial contact, Dante's vehicle produced a shower of sparks as it skid to a stop mere inches before its master. The experienced hunter meanwhile lie unconscious beside his purring motorcycle as various scrapes, gashes, and burns littering his clothed body.

Since the night was merely achieving the halfway mark, the highway was practically bare, with a few cars here and there. As the minutes passed agonizingly slow, a soft crimson light began to surround the injured slayer. Eventually, Dante's wounds began to heal, his inner demon cooing softly as it called to its human counterpart. The experienced slayer groaned softly as he slowly opened his eyes. Inhaling deeply, Dante slowly rose into a seated position, observing his surroundings as he did so. Wordlessly, he checked over his body, every recent injury he obtained, now flawlessly healed. Sighing softly he slowly rose onto his feet before traversing over to his motorcycle. However, as he leaned down to lift his vehicle into an upright position, the familiar pain in his left pectoral muscle flared up once again. Furrowing his brow, Dante pulled on the elastic collar of his torn shirt, a newly acquired burn mark adorning his skin. The foreign character however sparked his interest as the various short slashes coupled with long strokes reminded him of the various characters recorded in his journal back at the _Devil May Cry_. Shaking his head to clear his mind of the enigma of how he acquired the new tattoo, he lifted his motorcycle. Slinging his left leg over the leather cushion, Dante revved the throttle before pushing off of the asphalt, the city of Conrad awaiting his arrival.

…

Nero sighed heavily as he glanced down at his various collections of meters. His gasoline gauge however began to worry him. The highlighted needle was already in the red just before the _**E**_. Furrowing his brow considerably, he squinted his eyes as he observed the open road before him. The last town he passed through was well over two hours behind him, and he was not very privy to the obscure locations of some gas stations littering the countryside. Either way, the young slayer focused his eyesight on his surroundings. There had to be a gas station somewhere, and he could only hope that he located one before his motorcycle ran dry. Inhaling deeply, he slightly relinquished his tightly clenched fingers on the rubber grips before slowly exhaling. The night had reached the halfway mark, and the environment was practically pitch black. Nero began to wonder if anyone was actually foolish enough to venture out this far, even during the daytime, other than himself. Since there was nothing to amuse his interest, the young demon hunter's mind began to wander. His first thoughts wandered to the topic of Kyrie's well being. He was still at least a half a day's drive away from Fortuna, and the distance only served to wreak havoc on his nerves.

The looming notion of the demon leader holding her hostage did not exactly help either. Even though Nero had thought about a plan of attack, he was foolish in refusing Dante's aid. Rescuing Fortuna from the False Savior's iron grip was a near impossibility, however with Dante's help, the young slayer was able to close the book on that near tragedy. Nero bowed his head in shame as he recalled the previous conversation with the elder slayer. If he was thinking straight, he would have accepted the elder's help, and Kyrie would have a fighting chance. However, now he was all alone, and with the display his inner demon had provided, he did not exactly trust the entity anymore. Especially since the demon had practically suffocated him in the process. Sighing heavily, his motorcycle reactivated his senses as a warning siren began to sound before the vehicle sputtered. Glancing down at his gasoline gauge, Nero cursed loudly once he discovered that the highlighted needle rested against the pin behind the _**E**_. A drawn out groan of disdain vibrated his vocal chords as his motorcycle coasted to a stop on the right side of the obscure road.

"Great, just great," Nero commented as he turned his keys in the ignition until the purring engine ceased all activity. "Now what?"

Placing his hands on his hips, the young slayer glanced up and down the road, praying that some other vehicle would grace his field of sight. However, with the hour of the night, he highly doubted anyone would be out on this particular road. Another heavy sigh passed over his lips before his eyes focused on the somewhat empty terrain before him on the opposite end of the road. Thick clouds loomed suspiciously low along the ground, obscuring anything that would be just beyond their swirling boundary line. Tilting his head to the right, Nero continued to closely observe the development until dark, obscure objects began to emerge from the shifting clouds. Squinting his eyes, the young slayer concentrated on identifying the edifices. A few moments passed before he identified the objects as buildings.

"A town!" he exclaimed joyously. "Perhaps they'll have a gas station!"

Retrieving his motorcycle, Nero proceeded to push the object alongside him as he journeyed closer to the mysterious town. Upon his entry, the youth paused, shivering slightly from the significant drop in the temperature, and how deathly silent the town was. Wearily, he continued to observe his surroundings as unease began to rise within his subconscious. Something was amiss in this small town, and he did not like the feeling he acquired from it. Anxiety bore heavily down upon his shoulders as he continued further into the ghostly villa. Unannounced to the young devil slayer, a small pack of demons waited patiently in the midst of the dilapidated buildings, their radiant irises following his every move. A low, vibrating growl emanated deep within the leader of the pack's throat, signaling to the other members to proceed with the hunt.

"Hello?" Nero called as he paused momentarily to rescan his environment. "Anyone here?"

The young slayer listened intently as his voice echoed through the narrow main street of the town, his only response being the low howl from the stale wind. Surveying his environment one final time, he sighed heavily in disappointment as he strode further into the mist dominated burg. Meanwhile, the vivacious pack of demons kept a close reference on his tracks, ducking behind or under crumbling surfaces whenever their prey shifted his gaze. Eventually, Nero wandered into the once proud and decorated centre of the ghost town. A small marble fountain, long quenched of valued water, lay shattered in a crumbling heap. The cobblestone streets surrounding the fountain boasted an array of fissures, creating a literal roadmap detailing the town's painful and devastating destruction. Pushing the kickstand of his motorcycle down with his left foot, the curious youth journeyed closer to the aged artistic carnage to barter a studied gaze into the past.

Meanwhile, hidden away atop a lofty building, a shadowed figure witnessed Nero's curious advances. Radiant hazel orbs narrowed slightly as their owner continued his or her observations. However, as the observer's target of interest proceeded to examine the remains of the fountain, a low hiss coupled with a few distinct flashes of light, quickly captured his or her attention. The figure in waiting quickly glanced to the right, five members of a notorious local demon pack slowly stalked closer to the town square. Stealthily, the observer retreated back into the shadows, retrieving a weapon of choice afterward. Nero sighed heavily in pity as he stood back onto his feet. He harbored no doubts about the once regal beauty of the fountain as well as the town. Whatever had occurred must have seemed like an apocalypse to the previous residents. He pursed his lips together into a tensed, thin line as he lifted his arms over his head, weaving his fingers together afterward. He then cleared his throat as he placed his interwoven fingers against the back of his head, the rather luminous crimson leather of Dante's oldest overcoat squeaking in protest to his movements.

"Heh," Nero chuckled as he splayed his arms out before his field of vision. "This coat's just like you Dante…old."

The incognito demons tilted their heads as they continued to observe their prey. Two of the younger males cooed and whimpered questions directed toward their leader concerning the opportune moment to strike. Growling low in its throat, the pack leader slowly retreated around a dilapidated building complete with various gaping chasms. Testing the limits of its agility, the leader gracefully leapt from floor to unstable floor until it reached the third story. Lowering its body closer to the floor, the pack's leader carefully observed Nero's movements, waiting for the youth to take a miscalculated step. Unannounced to any of the pack members or Nero, the shadow figure watched closely as well. Hidden away by the early morning shadows, she or he waited patiently for the demon leader to make the first move. The young demon slayer paused in his previous advance toward his motorcycle as the atmosphere grew steadily heavy. He swallowed past a forming lump in his throat as he quieted his breathing. The episode of anxiety resurfaced in his mind as his muscles steadily tensed. The demon leader narrowed its luminous eyes before launching its streamline body through a gaping chasm toward Nero. The youth managed a stifled gasp as a ravenous howl echoed over the landscape.

The events occurring following the howl seemed like a blur to the young slayer as he instinctually lifted his arms before his body, crossing the appendages as he did so. Receiving the signal to attack, the remaining four members of the pack surged forth, their long claws scraping against the fractured cobblestone. The armed observer also leapt into the fray, the selected weapon held high and poised for the first strike. Nero quickly exhaled before clamping his eyes shut, awaiting the painful result of the demon's ambush. However, to his surprise, the assault failed to occur. Reopening his eyes, his gaze quickly intercepted the sleek figure of a young woman retaliating from the interruption of the beast's attack. Slowly lowering his arms, the youth swept his gaze up and down the woman's body, visually absorbing her physical features.

"Hey, don't just stand there!" she barked, leaping to the side just as a second demon surged toward her. "Help me fight these things off!"

Nero quickly nodded his agreement as he unsheathed his Red Queen. A confident smirk curled the left corner of his lips as two obsidian demons reverted their attention to focus on him. Thrusting the curved tip of his sword into a prominent crack in the cobblestone, the young devil slayer twisted the weapon's handle thus calling forth a roar from its exceed system. The demons tilted their heads in confusion as they continued to observe the youth's actions. Once the Red Queen's blade radiated a vibrant crimson shade, Nero surged toward the puzzled demons, a valiant battle cry vibrating his vocal chords. Skidding his blade along the scarred surface of the town square, the youth slapped the radiant palm of his demonic arm down onto the weapon's handle, causing for the blade to recoil in an upward stroke. Flames rippled mercilessly off of the glowing blade as it tore through the demon cleanly. The demon howled in pain before two identical halves of its severed body collapsed into a bloody heap onto the ground. The same fate befell another of the remaining pack members as the mysterious woman hacked her demon adversary to ribbons. Whimpering in fear and loss, the two surviving demons quickly turned tail and bolted down the abandoned alleyway from whence they came.

Nero sighed in satisfaction as he nonchalantly shook the blood from the Red Queen's blade before sheathing it behind his back. He then turned to face the woman he had recently met, noting that she too was busy ridding her weapon of vile demon blood. A small smile curled the youth's lips as he calmly approached her. The woman merely offered him a quick glance of acknowledgement before sheathing her weapon and turning to leave. The young devil hunter furrowed his brow in confusion toward her curt behavior, but allowed for the gesture to slide as he began to follow her. As far as her attire was concerned, the woman sported a rather figure friendly azure jumpsuit, a broad white line stretching from her shoulders down to her ankles. Her long obsidian hair, which was currently tied back into a high ponytail, seemed to contrast heavily in comparison to her fair complexion. From what he could gather, her eyes were a light hazel with an undertone of emerald. What he found most surprising about her was her lack of any kind of footwear.

"Are you so enamored by my appearance that you would leave your own vehicle behind?" she questioned stoically, turning to face Nero.

"Huh?" he questioned before glancing over his right shoulder, his momentarily forgotten motorcycle still residing close to the fountain. "Oh shit!"

The woman rolled her eyes before shaking her head. It was no wonder the boy was oblivious to the presence of the demons; his motives may be admirable, but his mind is clouded. And without proper focus, he would never hope to achieve his goals. A light tint of pink colored Nero's cheeks as he quickly retrieved his motorcycle, jogging afterward in order to catch up. The youth's spirit, however, did amuse the female, earning a soft chuckle following his brief slip-up.

…

The first rays of crimson starlight filtered over a molten horizon as the underworld awoke to a new day. Vergil meanwhile was slumped over the encyclopedia he had studied from the previous night, his right cheek pressed upon the current page he had yet to complete. His arms were splayed out across the desk's surface above his head, his fingers curled slightly from their positions. Due to his late night study session, the condemned son of Sparda reacted to naught a disturbance from neither Amelia nor the blood-red sunlight filtering in through the massive cathedral stained-glass windows. Upon her discovery of Vergil's slumped form, Amelia smiled warmly before setting about her morning duties. However, a small frown creased her painted lips as her gaze intercepted the haphazardly tossed encyclopedias lying on the floor. In all of the years she had known the man, she would never have figured him for such a relentless ruffian, especially with the treasured books of his own valued library. A heavy sigh cascaded forth from her mouth as she kneeled down to pluck the treasure troves of knowledge from the floor.

She groaned slightly from the effort and her age as she lifted two encyclopedias into her arms, cradling them in the crook of her left elbow afterward. The small amount of noise the commotion did generate was surprisingly enough to jar Vergil from his slumber. Cumbersomely, he opened his left eye, surveying his well-lit environment before reclosing it and lifting his head. The page from which he had rested his right cheek upon had loosely adhered itself against the half-breed's skin. Therefore it followed suit as Vergil lifted his head, detaching from his skin once the encyclopedia's binding provided a greater inertia. Blinking a few times in order to focus his vision, the condemned son of Sparda properly observed his surroundings before smoothing out the lapels of his overcoat with the palms of his hands. He then cleared his throat before glancing down at the open encyclopedia, the sketchy image of _Salidaria Demani_ greeting him upon his awakening. Vergil furrowed his brow as he continued to stare down at the image as fragments of the previous night's study resurfaced in his mind. Leaning his elbows on top of the desk, the prude half-breed re-read a few sections to piece together the connection Salidaria had with his long deceased father.

"Ah, master Vergil," a soft voice called, the distinct sound of high heeled shoes clacking noisily in comparison as the owner cautiously approached. "I see you are still in the library."

"Danielle," Vergil addressed without glancing up from the text.

"Have you discovered that which you were searching for?" the young maid questioned as she paused mere inches before the desk.

"I have," he answered as he dog-eared the page he was currently reading. "However, just because I have located the information does not necessarily suggest that I understand its meaning."

"Shall I retrieve your breakfast for you?" Danielle questioned as she tilted her head to the right slightly.

"No, I shall be along shortly," Vergil answered as he slowly stood from his chair. "Go and set a place for me in the Grand Hall in the meantime."

"As you wish my liege," the young maid replied as she bowed deeply.

The condemned half-breed's crystalline blue orbs followed his maid's movements as she turned and retreated out of the library. A heavy sigh passed over his lips as he returned his piercing gaze onto the still open encyclopedia. A slight commotion centered on the circulation desk quickly absorbed his attention. Glancing to his right, Vergil noted Amelia proceeding with her daily library chores as well as checking in a few books that a rather talented cook had borrowed in order to improve his skill. Grinding his teeth together momentarily, he reverted his gaze to fall upon the book once more before he slipped his left hand under the object's left flap. Slowly pushing the flap to the right, he carefully closed the encyclopedia before lifting the object into his arms. Compared to the rest of the general population that inhabited the expansive mansion the condemned son of Sparda inherited from his father, Vergil possessed surprisingly quiet footfalls, with the exception of his mood altering their acoustics. Therefore once he finally approached the circulation desk, he startled Amelia.

"Oh, Vergil," she addressed as she placed her right hand over her chest. "You startled me."

"My apologies Amelia," the half-breed replied, dipping his head forward in a gesture of sincerity. "I shall remember to alert you of my presence before hand."

"That's quite alright dear," the librarian responded, a motherly smile creasing her lips. "Now what can I do for you?"

"Would you please place this encyclopedia on hold for me?" Vergil questioned as he presented her the selected book. "I shall return for it later tonight."

"Why of course Vergil," Amelia answered as she retrieved the object from his outstretched hands. "Just make sure you come to pick it up before closing time."

"I will, thank you," he commented before turning swiftly on his left heel and pacing out of the library.

…

Nero ground his teeth together as he continued to stare into a rippling fire that was stationed a mere two feet from his location. The woman whom he had befriended earlier chose to keep her identity a secret from him for the time being. However, she was gracious enough to allow for him to join her for an early breakfast. The distinct clanging commotion of stainless steel cookware eventually attracted the youth's attention, his crystalline-blue eyes glancing up to focus on the rather stony features of his savior. The awkward silence between the two eventually drove Nero to begin fidgeting in his haphazardly assembled seat. The commotion gained him a passing glance from the female.

"So, uh, you live here?" the young demon slayer questioned as he proceeded to wring his fingers.

"No," she answered flatly.

"Oh," Nero replied, lightly scratching the back of his neck with his left hand. "Well…uh, that's a cool weapon you have there."

"Thanks," the female commented, her one-word answers steadily annoying the youth.

"Sheesh, you're starting to sound just like Dante," Nero complained as he threw a random stick into the cracking fire.

At the mention of the elder hunter's name, the female froze, her hazel eyes fixated on the younger slayer. After a few moments of oblivion, Nero glanced up only to furrow his brow at noticing her expression. He then began to glance around at his surroundings before reverting his gaze to fall upon hers. Shrugging his shoulders in confusion, he nervously proceeded to chew on the soft lining of his left cheek. A few moments of awkward silence passes between the two once more before the female hastily discards the cooking pans. The loud, and sudden clattering of the cookware startle Nero, distracting him long enough for his female savior to tackle him onto the ground.

"Hey, what the-!" the young slayer retorted before the sharp prods of a crafted blade register against his throat.

"How the hell do you know of Dante?" the female demanded, her eyes narrowed.

"He's a good friend of mine," Nero quickly answered, his voice trembling slightly from the proximity of the blade.

"And why should I believe you?" she questioned.

"Look, this overcoat I'm wearing," the youth began as he curled a loose end in his left hand. "It's originally his. He let me wear it."

The female allowed for her grip on his shirt to relax slightly. Nero sighed heavily as he pushed his upper body up onto his elbows, however he made certain to keep a weary eye on the female. The slayer's savior, meanwhile retreated back to her makeshift chair, breakfast being momentarily forgotten. The youth cleared his throat as he too returned to his homemade seat, weaving his fingers together afterward.

"So, where do you know Dante from?" Nero questioned as he bartered a passive glance at the female.

"I don't know him personally," she answered. "I only know him from myths and legends that travel across the land."

"Really?" the young devil slayer continued.

"Yes," the female replied. "I have been searching for him day and night over the countryside. However, I have yet to locate him."

Following her answer, the female fell silent as if to contemplate her next remark. In her moment of silence, the youth began to formulate his next slur of questions, one such question having missed its initial introduction.

"Hey, by the way," Nero began. "What's your name?"

"Gabrielle," she answered. "What about yours?"

"Nero," the young slayer replied.

"I find it strange that I did not recognize you at first," Gabrielle commented as she busied herself with the task of recovering the remains of breakfast.

"What do you mean?" Nero questioned as he furrowed his brow.

"Are you not the half-breed savior of the castle town of Fortuna?" she continued, bartering a passing glance in his direction.

"Well, one of them," the youth answered bowing his head slightly. "Dante helped me as well."

Gabrielle nodded her head stiffly before carefully setting the warm frying pan she salvaged earlier down onto a somewhat level rock. Turning slightly in her chair, she then retrieved two pristine ivory plates, offering one to Nero. Smiling graciously, he accepted the platter.

"So are you some kind of bounty hunter or something?" he questioned as she began to evenly empty the contents of the pan onto each plate.

"No," Gabrielle answered. "I'm what you would call a drifter. Well, a drifter on a pilgrimage anyway."

"Where'd you get that weapon?" Nero continued as he began to consume his breakfast.

"Japan," she responded. "It's a rather small country made up of four distinct islands. It's very beautiful, especially during this time of year."

Nero nodded his acknowledgement as she continued, his breakfast already fully consumed.

"Your jumpsuit reminds me of a movie I saw once," the devil hunter commented as he loosely folded his forearms over his knees.

"Which movie?" Gabrielle questioned as she began to consume her breakfast.

"Kill Bill Volume one," he answered. "It's a really weird movie made by this guy Quentin Tarrentino starring Uma Thurman. I can't remember much about the plot or the story though, demon slaying and military tactics sure keep one's mind busy."

Gabrielle nodded in agreement as she finished her meal as well. Even though the sun was still a couple of hours away from peaking over the horizon, the nighttime sky began to grow darker. Nero sighed heavily as he retrieved a slightly thicker stick than the one he previously chucked into the fire, prodding the crackling hazard in order to reset a few of the fallen logs. Upon slightly strengthening the charred chunks of wood, he tossed the stick in afterward. His crystalline gaze remained fixed upon the dancing inferno until a bright glint reflected off of his motorcycle's chasse. Reverting his gaze to fall upon his vehicle, he began to study its design and configuration. The youth owned that motorcycle for more years than he cared to remember. Credo had presented the slayer with the sleek vehicle on his seventeenth birthday, figuring that he was old enough to be trusted with a motorized mode of transportation. Nero smiled at the memory, however remembering the brief moment in time depicting the deceased captain caused for his smile to drop. A soft groan vibrated the young slayer's throat as he slumped forward, returning his gaze to fall upon the fire. Gabrielle glanced over at her momentary companion before furrowing her brow in pity at seeing the boy so downtrodden.

"What wrong?" she questioned, tilting her head to the left slightly.

"Nothing, just thinking," he answered.

"By the way," Gabrielle began as she slung a small backpack over her shoulders. "I hate to just kick you out, but the dawn is quickly approaching, and those demons should be back with reinforcements. However, this doesn't mean I'm inviting you to join me either."

"But, I don't have any gas for my motorcycle," Nero confessed as he pointed his right index finger at his vehicle.

"Are you serious?" she questioned curtly. "What the heck are you doing wandering around in this town without any fuel?"

"I ran out on the highway just outside of this place!" the youth shouted, his patience wearing thin.

"Alright, alright," Gabrielle replied as she turned and threw a few war-torn articles of furniture to the side. "How much gas do you think you'll be needing?"

"Uh…I think three or four," Nero answered as he stood from his chair.

"You're in luck kid," she commented as she pulled two rather large gasoline containers from the pile of charred chairs. "I believe I have about three gallons worth of gas still in these things."

"Thanks, uh, how much do I owe you?" he questioned as he lifted both containers off of the floor.

"Just refuel and get out of here," Gabrielle answered curtly. "I'm leaving now. It's been nice knowing you."

"Gabrielle!" the youth called out. "Will I ever see you again?"

"Don't hold your breath Nero," she replied before bolting out of a gaping hole in the side of the building.

The youth sighed heavily before shaking his head. There were times he really could not understand women to save his life. On one hand, they were wonderful and very welcoming, and on the other, they really knew how to wear someone down. Twisting the gas cap off of his motorcycle's tank, Nero hoisted the filled to capacity container first, pulling off the leak resistant cap before inverting it. As the container was slowly emptied of its vital contents, the demon slayer began to survey the slowly darkening room. Even though the fire was still consuming the nearby logs, the room had grown eerily dark. Glancing down at the inverted container, he slowly lifted the object as the last few drops of gasoline cascaded into the tank. Nero then nonchalantly discarded of the container by tossing it into the far corner of the room. To his distain, the object clattered noisily, causing for the youth to cringe.

"Fuck, I probably just woke up about every single demon within a two mile radius," he cursed as he quickly tore open the last container and inverted the object over the open fuel port on his vehicle's tank.

As if to answer his prediction, a chorus of loud otherworldly howls filtered through the air. The young slayer proceeded to grind his teeth together as he glanced back and forth from the container to the gaping hole Gabrielle had earlier leapt through. Anxiety began to rebuild once again as the howling drew closer to his location. He could only ponder as to how hungry those demons were. All of the demons were probably starving judging from the condition of the town. He then began to shake the container as the remaining drops of gasoline in Gabrielle's hidden stash dripped into his tank. Lifting the container away from his motorcycle's tank, Nero quickly twisted the gas cap on. However, just as he finished, an unidentified being leapt onto his back.

The young devil hunter growled in surprise and pain as the creature tore at the leather overcoat, vying for purchase on the slick material. He cursed loudly at the demon as he violently twisted his back from right to left, eventually managing to throw the demon. The snarling pack he then became acquainted with bared their teeth and slowly stalked toward him, blazing yellow eyes staring him down. Nero's heart rate skyrocketed as he began to steadily retreat, his hand securely resting against Red Queen's handle. He could handle a miniscule problem like this, however with every second that passed two or three more demons would leap, swing, or fly in from various holes, crevices and creases in the cramped room. The youth swallowed nervously as in a matter of seconds, he was now up against a whole army of demons.

"Jeez Dante," he whispered as he quickly glanced at his vehicle. "Where the fuck are you when I need you?"

His question was answered as a feline-like demon roared at him before pouncing. Nero managed to quickly exhale his breath before forcefully thrusting his right arm out, connecting a sharp jab to the beast's snout. The remaining pack of demons howled loudly before collectively charging him. The demon slayer turned and bolted for his motorcycle. However, just as he managed to wrap his left hand around the left handlebar grip, a canine-like creature pounced on his right leg and latched its teeth around his thigh, its razor-sharp teeth puncturing soft flesh as well as his hamstrings. Nero howled in pain as two more demons leapt onto his back, knocking him onto the floor with a loud thud. The sharp landing onto his abdomen coupled with the combined weight of his attackers practically squeezed the air from his lungs. It was not long however until multiple demons descended upon his writhing body, pain overwhelming his senses as additional sets of teeth, fangs and claws tore into his flesh. His anger began to escalate into a triggering level as his eyes flashed a crimson hue. Nero growled low in his throat as he flailed his bleeding limbs, succeeding in throwing various demons off of his body in the process. However, with every demon he managed to dislodge from his flesh, not only would the demon tear away a piece of his skin or muscle, but two more demons would relocate onto his body where space became available. His growls quickly morphed into cries of pain and agony as his body began to succumb to the never ending and vicious attacks.

Nero's inner demon retreated back into the dying body it possessed, patiently awaiting his death. The youth now lie practically torn to ribbons in a pool of his own blood as he awaited his inevitable end at the hands of an army of starving demons. With the remaining energy he still possessed, he cried out once more for aid, wishing that someone, anyone had heard him. Though out of earshot thanks to the earsplitting noise the demons orchestrated, the rather quick crescendo of a roaring mechanical engine eventually overpowered the chorus of shrieks. The young slayer held onto the figurative thread of life as the army of demons paused prior to a rather gratuitous and noisy entrance compliments of a man astride a massive motorcycle. The man spoke nary a word as he burst through the crumbling wall, revving his vehicle's engine in a fit of rage. As a chorus of shrieks and wails rose up in testimony of his behavior, the man clad in a torn overcoat replied with a battle cry of his own as he pulled twin pistols from behind his back. Faster than an untrained eye could follow, the man unleashed a volley of bullets, his accuracy and deadly intentions proving to be more than a match for the hell spawn.

One after one, the demons succumbed to the warrior with their lives. Using their numbers and sheer size, many courageous demons leapt at the pistol-toting man from all angles and directions. Many also banded together in order to overpower him. However, no matter the situation or strategy, the man in red, with his furious twin pistols, won out every round. In a matter of minutes, every last demon lie dead, their smoldering remains painting the fractured floor in every color of the rainbow. Many of the remaining demons had attempted to flee, however, they too were quickly gunned down even before they could scamper out of the gaping hole from whence they came. Panting lightly, the warrior in red slowly lowered his smoking guns, surveying the massacre afterward. However as his eyes scanned the room, his gaze soon intercepted the body of a lost comrade.

"Nero!" he called as he hastily turned the keys in his ignition to the _off_ position before pushing his kickstand down.

Vaulting over the chasse of his motorcycle, the boy's savior sprinted over to the youth's motionless body. He practically fell to his knees as he wrapped his livid arms around his comrade, turning him in the process. Nero coughed hoarsely as the sudden, involuntary shift in his position caused unnecessary stress to be placed on his damaged torso. He cringed from the contact, even though his apparent savior's grip reassured him of the man's familiarity. The young slayer gasped for air as his pain reintroduced his mind to the morbid gravity of the situation his body was currently suffering. With the gentility of a mother's embrace, the man gingerly cradled Nero's body against his, all the while softly cooing promises of a better tomorrow. The youth groaned softly as his savior's voice began to sooth his panicking mind. Summoning what little strength he retained, Nero lifted his left hand up toward the other man's face, his trembling fingers blindly searching the stale air. Even though his eyes were open, the previous trauma had caused for his vision to blur. Finally, the tips of his fingers managed to contact human skin causing for a small smile of accomplishment to curl his cracked and bleeding lips. However, as the sensitive pads of his fingers trailed across the contacted stretch of skin, the course texture of facial stubble brought forth and onslaught of blood-stained tears.

"Dante," Nero whispered hoarsely before a wide grin splayed across his face. "You…came."

"Nero," Dante answered softly as he placed his right hand over Nero's quivering left hand. "If only I would have left with you…you wouldn't be in this situation."

"Dante…" the younger slayer called before a ravaging cough caused for his muscles to tense considerably. "I'm sorry…I should have…asked for your…help."

"No, Nero don't be sorry," the elder hunter corrected as he shook his head to emphasize his point, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "It's not your fault."

"Yes it is Dante!" Nero cried, forcing more tears down his stained cheeks.

Dante furrowed his brow in pity and remorse as he helplessly watched his comrade fall to pieces in his arms. Sure the kid was exponentially more emotional than he could ever be, however the elder hunter always believed that those individuals who displayed their emotions publically rather than constrict and contain them inside one's mind were ultimately stronger. However, after years of hiding his tears, pride always seemed to step in moments prior to a breakdown. He merely sighed heavily as he slowly closed his eyes, the saltine gift of his human emotions receding to congregate in his tear ducts. Eventually, the significantly weakened voice of his suffering comrade recaptured his attention.

"Dante," the youth whispered as his left hand slipped from his comrade's scruffy jaw line. "Please promise me this. Promise me…you will make the journey back…to Fortuna for me. Please, save Kyrie. Please."

"Nero, don't talk like that," Dante commanded as fresh tears glistened in his eyes. "You're coming with me."

"Heh…always the…optimistic one huh?" Nero chided as a pained smile creased his quivering lips. "Dante…look at me. Do I really look like I can keep going? My…demon…abandoned me, and with it…along went my powers."

"No…Nero," the elder hunter stammered, his grip constricting around his comrade's body.

"Dante," the younger slayer addressed. "Sometimes…you just have to know when…to let go."

"I won't let you go Nero!" Dante proclaimed as he relocated his right hand from the youth's waist up to cup his left cheek, his thumb lightly stroking the bloodstained skin it contacted. "I…can't."

At long last, the clergy of congregated tears the elder slayer harbored since the discovery of Nero's motionless body shattered his pride's wall and cascaded freely down his face. Dante's inner demon cooed in sorrow as its human half mourned over their comrade. According to plenty of myths, folklore and legends, demons were depicted as heartless creatures that only knew anger. However, as a half-breed, even the demon within suffered from the suffocating emotion plaguing it. As the elder slayer buried his tear-stained face in the tattered remains of the youth's shirt, his cooing inner demon unleashed a mournful cry of its own. In the moments following, a crimson aura enveloped Dante's body, the pulsating waves of energy seeping into Nero's motionless body.

"**Dante**," the half-breed's inner demon called. "**There is still a chance to save him, but you must transfer our energy using a more direct method**."

"What do you mean by that?" Dante questioned, his gaze never faltering from Nero's tense features. "What is it you require from me to carry out?"

"**What does your heart tell you to do**?" the cooing voice of his inner demon answered before retreating back into his subconscious to focus on the transfer.

As hot saltine tears surged down his face, Dante began analyzing the problem set before him with his mind. He also surveyed the current situation. Apparently embracing was transferring his energy, but not in life-saving quantities. If he did not figure out another way to surrender his energy to Nero, the youth would ultimately die. However, in his momentary lapse of common sense, the experienced slayer was reminded of rather wise words the younger hunter had spoken earlier.

_Sometimes, you just have to know when to let go._

"Know when to let go," he reiterated, causing Nero to groan slightly from the dulling pain. "Nero, please forgive me…and accept my gift of life."

Gingerly, he lifted his younger comrade closer to his body, sliding his right hand back to allow for his fingers to curl around Nero's neck. In the confusion of the tender exchange, the youth opened his mouth to reply, however his comment was quickly forgotten as Dante pressed his lips against his comrade's. Even though the passionate gesture was awkward and somewhat unbefitting, Nero relaxed, oblivious to the energy transaction he was currently receiving from the elder. The younger slayer's eyes drifted closed as he tilted his head, allowing for their interlocked lips to slide into a more preferable position. As the experienced slayer's inner demon maintained the smooth connection of energy transfer, it cooed softly in content. However, it harbored a prediction that the half-breed would undoubtedly be required to provide a plausible explanation later on. However, at the moment, the present never appeared more peaceful and romantic, especially with the added bonus of the slowly ascending sun just over the horizon. Sure the whole situation seemed cliché, but hell, clichés were appropriate when called for.

A soft groan vibrated Nero's vocal chords as he lifted his left hand toward his comrade's head, weaving his fingers through his surprisingly silky silver lochs. Accompanying every rhythmic undulation of their interconnected lips, the younger slayer curled his fingers in the elder's hair, tugging only when Dante forcefully reestablished the connection of their kiss-swollen lips. Once the youth's energy had been revitalized to a healthy level, Dante's inner demon then focused on repairing the battlefield of injuries Nero had sustained. The elder hunter flared his nostrils as he exhaled, his heart racing from the prolonged exposure to the youth's tantalizing kiss. A low, possessive growl later followed a hasty inhale as his primal instinct began to overcome his logical contemplation. Normally, the elder hunter kept a tight leash on his libido, successfully managing to control his sex drive to achieve a gentlemanly stature. However, he was also renowned for his skill in the bedroom on the occasions he decided to obey his human instincts, or so plenty of rumors instructed. Nero followed Dante's example and sharply exhaled through his flared nostrils, inhaling a highly sought after breath of crisp oxygen afterward.

The younger slayer could not exactly understand why Dante was kissing him; perhaps his mind was playing a cruel joke on him. Teasing him with images of his deepest desires finally becoming fulfilled, while he was on the brink of death only to reward him with an eternity to wallow in sorrow in the deepest recess of hell. He whimpered in protest to his mind's accusation, and therefore wrapped his demonic arm around his comrade's flexed back, causing Dante to stumble slightly. In an attempt to further soothe the suffering youth, the elder slayer curiously dipped his tongue into the boy's mouth earning a groan of approval afterward. To his inner demon's distain, Dante's libido was running amok, thus distracting his mind from the initial reason of the action. And the fact that Nero was enjoying the intimacy was not exactly helping either.

"**Easy Dante**," the flustered demon commanded. "**He's still too weak. I don't care if you succeed in seducing him, but don't get him aroused alright**?"

"_Yeah, yeah,_" came Dante's sarcastic reply.

Even though he was not allowed to arouse Nero, he wasn't scolded for becoming aroused himself. As the elder explored his comrade's mouth, his tongue was quickly intercepted by the youth's. A sly smile curled the corners of Dante's lips as he engaged Nero's tongue in a battle for dominance over the kiss. The youth's reinvigorated senses ran wild as his grip on his elder comrade grew into a possessive embrace, wishing with every fiber of his being that what he was experiencing was real. Eventually, Dante's knees reminded him of the abuse they had suffered through long enough. Therefore, the experienced slayer gently laid Nero back onto the ground, joining him afterward without breaking their lip lock. After many blissful minutes of a passionate game of dominance interlaced with palpable passion, Dante's inner demon succeeding in repairing the younger slayer's injuries. All that he would then require is plenty of rest and nourishment to replenish his strength and stamina. However with how its human counterpart was behaving, it doubted the boy would have any energy left to even blink.

"**Alright Dante**," the demon addressed. "**The energy transfer is complete. Nero should be back to normal by sunset tonight. He will need plenty of rest to replenish his own energy and strength, so be sure to keep a close vigil over him. Oh and Dante, do go easy on him. I have repaired his injuries, but that does not mean that they won't reopen at the slightest pressure.**"

As Dante's inner demon retreated into the pits of his soul, the elder slayer eased the sensuality of the passionate gesture, finally breaking the kiss. The younger slayer slowly opened his eyes as his left hand lazily untangled itself from his comrade's silver lochs, drifting at a cumbersome pace down along Dante's scruffy jaw line. As his grip loosened, his softly glowing demonic hand slipped from its initial position on the elder's clothed back, cascading onto the floor afterward. Nero panted heavily from the experience, his head tilting to his left as he gasped for valued air. Dante's hooded gaze lazily drifted down his comrade's quivering body, surveying the repairs his demon had conducted.

Each and every wound was flawlessly repaired with the exception of a deep gash that had reopened compliments of their testosterone-fueled romp. He cooed softly in pity as he leaned down over the gash in the youth's abdomen. Tearing away the tattered remains of his shirt, Dante preceded to tenderly glide his tongue over the wound. Nero's breath hitched in his throat as pain spiked through his system, however the gesture soon escalated into a soothing sensation, relaxing his muscles afterward. Once the elder had finished _cleaning_ the wound, he lifted his head, gently nudging his comrade's afterward. A small smile curled the youth's lips as he kinetically answered Dante's address by rubbing his left cheek against the elder's right. A contented sigh then passed over his lips before the younger slayer drifted off into a well-deserved slumber.


	7. Mission 7: The City that Time Forgot

Hey everyone! Sorry for the long wait! I've finally finished the next chapter. I'm not really going to blame this chapter's delay on school this time...to be honest, I wasn't really that inspired for the longest time...however there were bouts when my muse finally decided to smack me with the creation stick so I could cop out more _acceptable work_. Anyway, enough of my rambling...on to comments...:D.

**SirenaLoreley:** Yes an update at last! ^_^ Yeah, I figured since Nero really can't control the "demon" within him yet, I figured that it would be a very violent force of nature when unleashed. I also thought that as time progressed, Nero would eventually be unable to control it, the massacre of the police squadrons was only the first step. As for how Dante will react, I'm afraid he's not going to really catch a glimpse of the demon's power until waaaaay later in the story. Sorry...:( Anyhoo yes Gabrielle will be popping up randomly in the story and will even help our heroes in their later adventures. However, the _heroes _of which I speak will not exactly be your first guess. ~_^ Moving on, I'm glad you enjoyed the kiss scene, even though scenes involving passionate exchanges have me sitting in front of my laptop staring at the page until I can translate the movie in my head to words on the illuminated screen. ^^; As a side note...if you enjoyed the kiss scene, just wait until you read the sex scenes later. *hint, hint* :D Oooh! Cookies and roses? Thank you! *hugs you and offers to share teh cookies* ^_^

**SilverDragon88:** Why yes that was their first kiss in this story. All of the other times they were basically just embracing or staring at each other..;P. Aww, thank you. I'm pleased you enjoyed it. :D

**Armelle: **Aww, thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. Here's another one for you, hot off the press! ^_^

**Brittany: **Yeah, I kind of stuck it in there at a odd time..sorry..^^; but I'm pleased you enjoyed it. All time favorite? Awww, thanks soo much. *hugs you and gives you flowers*

**rainbowalike: **I'm pleased that you enjoy the random ideas that pop out of my mind and somehow manage to appear in the story. :D As for the "thank you's" I figure that since you wonderful people take the time to read these rather long chapters, then reply, I should offer a personal thank you along with a few words (or sentences) to answer your questions and what not. ^_^ Thanks, and you rock out loud! :D

**Milena: **Ah winter break...well I hope you enjoyed yours as much as I did mine...(I spent most of it writing/planning for this story..XD) Anyway, I'm glad you are enjoying the story along with that little "treat" I included for ya'll. ^_^

**Terra: **Oo; *revives you* I'm glad you're enjoying the story, and yes it is quite long isn't it? ^^ I think you'll be happy to know that as the story progresses, I plan to make the chapters longer...such as this one...and fear not for more has arrived! ^_^

**Namarie: **Fear not for I have no intentions of killing myself..(the stinkbug flying around the room, however, is a different story...*grabs bottle of rubbing alcohol*). Anyhoo, I'm very pleased that you enjoy this story. ^_^ Oh and thanks for the hug. :D

**Monique: **You're not alone there...Oo; ----My expression while writing that part ^_^. Yeah, and poor Nero couldn't do anything about it either...bad inner demon! *spanks it, gets roared at* Oo''. Anyhoo, yayz for action, and there's plenty more in this one. :D

**milcza: **Yeah, I was kind of wondering about that as well...*shrugs* Perhaps there was a slight malfunction? Well, whatever the case, I'm still glad you took the time to rewrite your review...*sniff* You guys are sooo awesome. I love you all. *hands out hugs* I'm very happy that my updates bring you joy. ^_^ A professional...? Me? Really? *3* Aww, thanks, and yeah actually, I'd love to write and publish books....now I just need to write a few manuscripts and find a publisher willing to print the books...

**lilianna: **Hmmm...*pokes review box* Maybe it got lazy? ^^ Ah well, thanks soo much for writing a re-review...it's wonderful to know that you enjoy this story so much. Aww, I'm glad that this story is helping the DantexNero pairing stay alive. ^_^ *hugs you* You're welcome, and thank you. :D

**Michelle: **Hello and welcome to the DMC Universe. For your safety, please keep your hands and feet inside the viewing modulator at all times, but feel free to take as many pictures as you like. Thank you and enjoy your ride. :D But all silliness aside, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I've also read quite a few DantexNero stories on this site, and I'll admit that a lot of them are quite cute, but some do tend to stray a little too far from the story. In a way I guess you could label this as fangirling or something of the matter...I'll admit I fangirl as well, but I usually remind myself of the main objective and make adjustments where required. Ah yes, Nero...even though he is actually quite easy to keep in-character, as a fan-fiction writer, it's always just as easy to send him down the path of the ULTIMATE UKE, or the BAD TEMPERED PUNK a little to quickly. Sure he's more emotional than Dante is...but he's still a rather deep character...if you know what I mean. ^_^

**Brillis: **:D College exams suck, but they still need to be done...-_-;. Aww, thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed your treat, and the next chapters will have plenty more. :D.

**marzennalili: ***nods* More characters can also mean more willing sacrifices for later chapters...either that or more allies. *shrugs* Either way, I love additional characters. And fear not for even though I'll have plenty more characters to introduce, Dante, Nero, Vergil, and Salidar will be the main focus of the story. And as a foreshadow, two of the characters will have an interesting connection in later chapters. But I'm not telling which ones...;P Yet anyway. ^_^ Thanks for the support. :D

**Arrana: **Aaah yes, even love can bloom on a battlefield...I'm glad you enjoyed the kiss, and don't worry, Nero was pretty much oblivious to the fact that that event actually happened...he thought he was actually going to die if I recall...*shrugs* anyway, his side is explained in this chapter...but I'll include more in the next one. :D Fear not, for he isn't going to instantly fall in love with Dante, sure their connection will strengthen, but for the record nothing big is scheduled to happen yet. I'm also pleased that you enjoy this story. ^_^ *hugs*

**Wonderer: **Writing replies to those who reply is actually quite enjoyable. This especially allows for me to personally thank you guys for how wonderful your support and suggestions are. So thanks very much. ^_^ And thank you too. *gives you cookies*

**Heavens Demise: **Aww, thanks, and more has arrived. Enjoy. ^_^

Aaahh, another round of replies has come full circle. Thanks so much to all of you wonderful people who take the time to review (and in some cases re-review..*kicks review box*) for this story. It really means a lot to me knowing that I can make your day a little bit brighter since you guys always put a smile on my face. *gives you all Devil May Cry plushies of your choice as well as Lucifer roses and cookies* Thanks again everyone and enjoy the next chapter!

~mgssnake

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Dante growled low in his throat as he glared at a pack of slowly approaching hell spawn. Rebellion's pleated handle was clenched tightly in his gloved hands, the heirloom already dripping with crimson blood. The remains of his overcoat as well as his leather undershirt and pants were practically shredded to the point of unbefitting and his taut skin was slashed and bleeding. The elder slayer panted laboriously as he began to retreat. It seemed the various creatures of the underworld that had been after his blood for years were finally wearing the legendary hunter down, teasing him until he miscalculated his next move. Sweat poured down his chiseled features as his back sharply collided with a solid brick wall. A soft gasp escaped his throat as he quickly glanced behind him. A bird-like demon screeched overhead as it swooped down, raking its poison-laced talons across the hunter's face.

The experienced slayer cried out in pain as the newly created gashes along his right cheek began to weep blood. Anger and rage swelled in his subconscious, his inner demon roaring loudly within the pits of his obsidian soul. Dante's irises gained a crimson tint as he narrowed his eyes. He then ground his teeth together before parting his jaw and unleashing an inhuman roar, the volume of the disturbance rendering the demons closest to him temporarily paralyzed with fear. Joining in a rivaled chorus, the congregating demons quickly amassed in a massive sea of obsidian, the crimson glow of their oblong eyes counterbalancing the deep undertones. Curling his lips into a cynical smirk, Dante surged forth into the demonic sea of writhing bodies.

A discord of shrieks, wails, cries, and roars intermingled over the apocalyptic landscape as the hell bent slayer battled for survival. Though consequentially outnumbered, the experienced hunter valiantly waged war against the army of demons, his shared heart thundering against his quivering rib cage. As Dante quickly slashed through a canine-like demon, a high-pitched cry rang out across the battlefield. The hunter growled low in his throat as he quickly shielded his ears from the piercing cry. The demon legions however slowly staved off their primary emotions of anger and hatred in favor of awaiting the being that called for the momentary cease-fire. Panting heavily from the excursion, the outnumbered slayer quizzically inspected his somewhat peaceful environment. Every surviving demon had ceased their vicious intentions in favor of staring aimlessly into the atmosphere.

Cautiously lowering his sword, Dante soon followed his enemy's example and directed his sapphire blue gaze skyward only to gasp in horror as three familiar crimson spheres hovered menacingly overhead. Pale golden electricity crackled vibrantly between the orbs in a triangular pattern, further emphasizing the invisible deity's power. Following the ominous arrival of the crimson orbs, the overcast sky began to bleed a dull shade of violet and obsidian, thunder crackling menacingly as lightning blazed through the clouds. The hunter continued to stare in disbelief as his long deceased enemy had once again risen to exact revenge for the crimes Sparda had willingly committed against his own kind in order to protect the human race.

"**Dante**," the hidden deity thundered, the sheer vibrations of its tone causing for the decimated remains of surrounding buildings to crumble. "**At last I have found you. And it is in this city where you will finally meet your end at the hands of my new disciple**!"

"What the hell are you talking about Mundus?" Dante shouted, a vicious gale assaulting his body following his question.

"**Silence**!" Mundus roared, thunder crackling afterward to further emphasize his rage. "**For many years, I had your brother molded into the warrior you fought against in the confides of the castle atop Mallet Island. Unfortunately, his flaws seemed to outweigh his strengths, therefore in the end, he was defeated and by yourself no less**."

"I see you have yet to change as well Mundus," the experienced slayer noted in a sarcastic tone. "Huge ass body, and a tiny brain!"

"**Insolent fool**!" roared the otherworldly voice. "**Do not think for a moment that my newest disciple will be as worthless as your irresolute brother**!"

Dante grit his teeth as he clenched his hands into tight fists as Mundus proceeded to laugh in a mocking fashion. Every last member of his family had unwillingly met their untimely deaths at the hands of the false deity. His father had sacrificed his life for the sake of his family and the human world. His mother encountered her grisly death by way of a ferocious demon ambush, and his brother unwillingly came to terms with his end after years of mind-numbing torture and mental corruption by the very hands of the vile demon lord himself. A shuddering sigh passed over the hunter's lips as his eyes slipped closed momentarily in reverence to his deceased family, their combined screams of agony and anguish filtering through the echoing sonic boom of thunder, eventually escalating into a steady crescendo that would surpass even the highest decibel level on the doomed planet.

Following a few moments of silence, the experienced slayer quickly inclined his head, his glowing crimson gaze directed toward the heavens. Crimson tears began to trail down his face as a vicious cry ravaged his vocal cords along with the heart wrenching memories of witnessing both his mother and brother suffer until their very last breath had expired. As the pain of old wounds began to resurface, Dante's inner demon finally seized control. The demon slayer closed his eyes as the familiar persona transformation began. Thunder rumbled ominously overhead as a single bolt of crimson electricity rocketed down toward the ground, striking the half-breed's body in order to assist in the success of the transformation. Dante's inner demon growled as tender pale flesh morphed into a thick hide of obsidian scales. What remained of his once elegant overcoat quickly became rigid, the fabric forming various spikes along the hunter's body. The long and pale digits that were the human half's fingers quickly elongated and stiffened into crimson claws, a similar transformation occurring to his concealed feet. Flowing silver lochs also underwent a drastic change, the fragile chains of proteins hardening to become various spikes, creating a metaphoric helmet to further protect the demon. Upon completion of the half-breed's transformation, the demon offspring of Sparda glared menacingly up at the still hidden deity.

"I have defeated you once before Mundus," Dante commented as he narrowed his luminous eyes. "And with the souls of my dearly departed family by my side, I shall once and for all eradicate you and your lowly apprentice from this world as well as the next."

"**You seem confident in your ability to overcome my power**," Mundus noted in a philosophical tone. "**We shall see if your will is stronger than your heart**."

The slayer tilted his head in confusion as lightning blazed violently through the heavens above, before centering at a pivotal position directly over an intact radio spire. Dante shielded his eyes from the resilient flash before slowly lowering his clawed right hand to gaze upon the figure of his opponent. From his vantage point, the apprentice of Mundus appeared to be quite young and thinly built. Unlike the suit of luminous armor his corrupted brother was forced to wear, the foe that stood just out of his focal range did not seem to be adorned with any kind of armor or protective plating what so ever. The hunter scoffed as he crossed his arms. It seemed that the vain deity was losing his touch if the best he could throw at him was nothing more than a mere child.

"You insult my intelligence you pompous imbecile!" Dante jeered as he reverted his attention back to the triumvirate of hovering spheres. "Do you honestly believe a mere child can defeat me?"

"**Your arrogance blinds you spawn of Sparda**!" the false deity chided. "**The boy you see before you is no mere child. He is quite powerful for his size, and I'm sure you would agree when I mention that he is quite a match for you**."

The experienced hunter furrowed his brow in confusion as he quickly reverted his gaze to fall upon the figure of his adversary. However, as he shifted his gaze to fall upon the silhouette of the radio spire, he discovered the object to be devoid of any being. His confusion was short lived once his heightened sense of hearing intercepted the discord resulting from displaced wind flowing around an object. Dante's ears twitched slightly as he quickly stepped to his right, just barely missing a swift sword swipe from Mundus's new apprentice. Wrapping the clawed fingers of his right hand around the pleated handle of Rebellion, he quickly turned to face his opponent only to gasp and postpone his counter attack once the identity of his attacker was revealed to him.

"Nero," he breathlessly addressed his right hand falling from his weapon's handle.

The possessed being of the elder's comrade narrowed his eyes as he lunged at the half-breed a second time, his emotionless eyes focused on his prey. The human persona that shared the body of Dante struggled to regain control as concern for the corrupted youth outweighed the urge to destroy Mundus. A resilient flash of lightning yielded the return of Dante's human persona, as well as his natural assets. However, to Nero, the being standing before him was an enemy, and therefore he must eradicate him as soon as possible. His steadfast gaze remained placid as he clenched his demonic right hand, the infected flesh glowing vibrantly as its owner summoned the strength of his own inner demon in order to incapacitate his foe.

"Nero!" the man with sapphire eyes called as he cautiously advanced upon his corrupted comrade. "It's me Dante. Don't you remember me?"

The youth spoke naught a word and instead lunged at his opponent once again, his glowing clawed, right hand extended out. The flabbergasted half-breed exhaled quickly before leaping out of Nero's path, however the luminous claws managed to tear away a sliver of the remnants of his clothes. Once again, Dante called out to the youth, pleading with him to awake from his daze, and to remember their relationship. Furthermore, every attempt at breaking the spell that firmly held Nero entangled was met with another vicious attack. Mundus roared with laughter as the remaining son of Sparda continued with his fool hearty attempts to seize control of the young man's emotions. Eventually a half hour passes with little success. Dante panted as he dodged yet another sword swipe from the youth's curved blade. The half-breed was severely wounded, his various contusions weeping vital crimson fluid. The elder hunter gazed upon his comrade once more with tear-laden sapphire eyes before chancing the final option. Pushing his battered body forward, he hastily wrapped his arms around Nero's tense figure.

"Nero," he whispered. "Please, I beg of you, please open your eyes. Why do you refuse to fight this curse? Why do you refuse to remember me?"

His questions went unanswered verbally, however the elder coughed sharply as the youth pierced his abdomen with his blade, revving the weapon's exceed system in the process. Tears cascaded down Dante's face as blood surged forth from the newly acquired wound.

"N-Nero," the experienced hunter murmured as blood cascaded over his quivering lips and dripped down his scruffy chin.

"You have no place in my mind demon," Nero coldly replied. "Nor do I choose to know or remember who you are. You are nothing to me."

"F-forgive me," Dante whispered as he collapsed against his comrade's rigid body. "I have failed you…Nero."

The brash youth scoffed before swiftly retrieving his sword's blade from its living sheath. The sudden switch in motion caused for Dante's body to recoil backward. With his miniscule strength depleting rapidly, the elder man gazed heartbroken at his former comrade before slowly closing his eyes and collapsing onto the battle scarred ground. Nero sighed heavily as he gazed down upon the fallen legendary hunter.

"**Well done**," the hidden deity congratulated. "**At last, the remaining remnants of that cur Sparda have been eradicated. Now I can finally rule both of these worlds as I see fit**!"

The young silver-haired man sighed softly as his gaze remained focused on Dante's body. Ever since the start of their rather short battle, the elder had not once reacted negatively toward him, almost as if he would rather choose death over harming the youth. Nero tilted his head to the right before gazing up at his master, the congregation of spheres disappearing into the stale atmosphere. Wordlessly, the young slayer turned and headed for the nearby coastline. However as he turned away from the final resting place of the legendary son of Sparda, a stray tear cascaded down his left cheek.

…

Dante gasped as he bolted upright from his previous position on the floor. His slightly blurred gaze stared aimlessly at the dimly lit wall opposing him as he continued to inhale and exhale in quick increments compliments of his diffusing nightmare. Remnants of a cold sweat lazily curled down his taut cheeks before the hunter proceeded to assert the futility of the dream's prediction. Sighing heavily to calm his breathing, Dante closed his eyes before falling back against a haphazard collection of torn and bloody sheets and quilts he managed to locate while scavenging for items in the ransacked room.

"It was just a dream," he whispered to himself as he intertwined the fingers of his right hand through his sweat dampened silver lochs.

The sun disk was now vibrantly shedding its light and energy high above the ground, it's maximum peak only a few hours away. Ever since the young slayer had drifted off into a required slumber, Dante busied himself with the task of locating items within the room that would be of service to the youth. However, with the massive collection of dead and decaying demon bodies littering the general living space of the ramshackle room, the elder believed that the dreaded house keeping chores were the first priority on his list. Not only was the smell nauseating and suffocatingly toxic, the literal banquet would otherwise have been too promising an ideal for other starving demons that could be on the prowl still.

Therefore, the experienced slayer set to work on evacuating the deceased demons from the premises. If any lingering demons were still gallivanting, then he would gladly give them a feast so long as they were to leave the youth and himself to their own devices. The task was long and laborious, but by the time the sun had finally cleared the horizon line, all that remained of the massacre were the memories and the scars. Exhausted from lack of sleep and the battle with the army of demons plus a hasty retreat from a squadron of police officers, Dante had all but collapsed next to the still peacefully slumbering Nero, eager to earn a few hours' worth of sleep himself. However, he could not have predicted the horrors his subconscious would hurl at him in his most vulnerable of situations. The elder slayer shuddered softly as he proceeded to vivaciously rub his forearms, his leather gloves squeaking slightly from the contact.

Inhaling deeply, Dante resisted the urge to release his held breath until a few moments had expired. Reopening his eyes, the sapphire blue-eyed hunter turned his head to his left, the prone form of his comrade intercepting his gaze. The small fire he noticed blazing vibrantly prior to his entry had long since burned out, smoldering coals being the only surviving remnants. Even with the sun mere degrees from its highest cresting point in the sky, the room sustained an eerie darkness. Momentarily tearing his gaze away from Nero, the elder silver-haired man glanced back at the remains of the fire. He then contemplated whether or not to rekindle the ashes, and stoke the smoldering embers back into a roaring fire. The job was simple and easy to achieve, however the task remained daunting to the slayer for obvious reasons.

"**What's wrong Dante**?" the man's inner demon questioned as a translucent apparition of the beast materialized to the hunter's right.

"Nothing," Dante answered, a heavy sigh cascading past his lax lips.

"**You sound troubled**," the beast prodded, tilting its head to the right while swiveling its pointed ears forward. "**Are you concerned for the boy's well being**?"

"No, it's not that," the elder slayer replied as he gazed down upon Nero's serene features. "I have complete faith in your abilities as a healer."

"**Then perhaps you worry yourself about his reaction when he will awaken**?" the man's demonic persona continued, flattening its ears against its head as possible outcomes flashed through its mind.

"No, and if he does proceed to chew me out, I have ways of calming him without harming him," Dante commented as he pushed himself up into a seated position.

"**Ahh, I see now**," the crimson apparition mused, its massive wings stretching slightly. "**Your mind is clouded with questions concerning your previous dream, is it not**?"

The human inhabitant of the shared body redirected his gaze to fall upon the fractured and blood stained floor. His dream had been bothering him ever since its grisly completion thus prompting him to awake in a cold sweat. While death was not a particular fear of his, Nero's safety was. The switch in direction of his thoughts prompted the slayer to glance at the youth once more. His facial expression, or lack there of, provided such a contrasting lie to the history of his previous excursion. However, to Dante, the once elegant overcoat he allowed for his comrade to borrow perfectly described the boy's psyche. He was a train wreck waiting to happen, and for all the kid probably knew of the predicted future, he would unwillingly be blind sighted. The gravity of the inevitable future caused for a choked shudder to pass over Dante's lips. Furrowing his brow, the elder slayer grit his teeth before hastily pushing his body up onto his feet, angrily swiping at his eyes with his left forearm.

"**Dante**…" the sapphire-eyed man's inner persona began only to hesitate as its human counterpart leaned against a far wall, his head bowed as if in reverence.

"It's just not fair," Dante commented in a broken voice, tears blurring his vision. "Nero has done nothing but recommendable deeds all of his life and yet he is mercilessly and continuously punished for it. I-I can't stand it! I can't stand the fact that I can only watch helplessly from the sidelines as fate decimates his soul every waking minute of his existence on this god forsaken planet!"

"**Dante**!" the crimson beast roared, gaining the elder's attention moments later. "**If fate was so unkind to the boy then how would you describe your relationship with him**? **Was your meeting him just a coincidence? A stroke of luck**?"

The man with silver lochs paused as he reverted his gaze to fall upon the apparition of his inner demon. The beast flexed its massive wings as it patiently awaited his response. Dante sighed heavily as he turned back to gazing aimlessly out of a gaping hole in the wall he was currently leaning against. Truth be told, he harbored no response to his second persona's questions. He chose to believe in reality rather than chance and fate. Everything had to happen for a reason, no matter how miniscule or complex. To him fate was merely an excuse conjured by the humans to describe otherwise unexplainable phenomenon. His thoughts then redirected to fall upon the topic of his deceased family members. For years since he was forced to wander the streets of Capulet as an orphan, he cursed God and blamed fate for the tragedy that befell his mother. Turning his back on hopeless beliefs and frivolous worship to a higher power, Dante focused more on the here and now and shunned those who wasted their time praying for a better tomorrow.

The hunter groaned softly from the resulting headache that began to form in his subconscious as his thoughts raced frantically in his mind. Lifting his right hand, he gently pressed his tense palm against his face, pushing the appendage higher before raking his fingers through his silver lochs. He eventually allowed for his arm to cascade haphazardly back by his side before trudging over to the extinguished fire and plopping down in one of the momentarily forgotten makeshift chairs, the object groaning slightly under his weight. Dante's demonic persona cooed softly in pity before slowly advancing upon him. The slayer chose to ignore the beast for the time being as he worked to reorganize his thoughts into a comprehensible order. However, the sensation of a slick, yet rough, warm object sliding along his neck quickly sobered him from his staring contest with the ashes of the previous fire. Turning in his seat, he noted his demon half tilting its head to the left before continuing its previous activity of running its pink tongue along his neck.

"What are you doing?" he questioned, a slight chuckle intermingling with his words.

"**Cleaning you**," the crimson beast answered. "**You positively reek of the stench of blood. And we don't necessarily want another demon army to ambush us do we**?"

Dante smiled eloquently before allowing his demonic persona to continue. Although, the sensation of a demon running its tongue along his skin did prompt a few shivers to course through his limbs involuntarily. His smile then slowly began to fade as he glanced over toward his slumbering companion once again. The youth was predicted to sleep until the sun began to disappear behind the west horizon line, and if the elder's own demon half concerned itself about how he smelled, then how afflicted was the beast pertaining to Nero's current status of hygiene?

A short, yet decisive snort sobered the man with sapphire eyes from another daydream as his inner demon proceeded to _clean_ his hair, various assaulted strands defying the laws of gravity. While his demonic persona busied itself with the task of playing mother, Dante proceeded to search the contents of his overcoat's pockets. In his left pocket, he located a few slips of lined paper containing various notes and scribbles as well as a few discarded gum wrappers and a lint ball. Tossing the rather useless objects and scraps to his left, the elder slayer then proceeded to kinetically explore his right pocket. Upon retrieving his right hand from the confides of his pocket, the elder slayer uncovered an old pair of ovular sunglasses, a pen that had exhausted its ink supply years prior, and two dollars.

"Sweet!" he cheered as he placed the monetary notes in his right pants' pocket.

"**There, all done**," the hunter's inner demon commented as a satisfied grin curled its scaly lips.

Dante sighed heavily as he cautiously raked his fingers through his now slimy hair, the matted silver strands sticking together from the highly viscous solution that was demon saliva. Wrinkling his nose from the sensation, the elder slayer unwillingly continued to smooth out his wily hair, all the while ridding the slick strands of excess saliva.

"Gee, thanks," Dante replied as he quickly whipped his wrist, flicking the excess demon saliva from his fingertips. "Now I smell heavily of demon spit."

"**Well at least you don't smell like blood anymore**," the beast retorted, it's bony tail flicking back and forth in a sporadic manner.

"So am I the only lucky son of a bitch to receive the _mother_ treatment?" the experienced slayer questioned coyly as he glanced over his shoulder at his demonic half. "Or can Nero and I receive the two for one special?"

The crimson and obsidian shaded beast narrowed its eyes in a sarcastic manner before snorting defiantly at its human counterpart. On one hand, the translucent demon wished to rid the temporary shelter for the slayers of the scent of blood, however that didn't necessarily prompt it to approving of the idea of casually reciprocating its actions on the youth. Although, Dante's mischievous grin coupled with a persistent attitude eventually prompted for the demon to assist Nero in alleviating him of the intoxicating aroma of an easy kill. As the demonic persona of the elder slayer cautiously advanced upon Nero's prone form, it flared its nostrils as a cocktail of enticing scents assaulted its nose. Snorting loudly, the beast flattened its pointed ears against its head before continuing its advance upon the youth, its massive wings folding securely against its scaly back.

Dante meanwhile, proceeded to revive the extinguished fire by cleaning out the ashes from the previous inferno, which dominated the small ring of rocks before meticulously placing a few thick portions of chopped logs in various patterns. Every so often his sense of hearing would intercept a snort or a low growl from his demon counterpart. The hunter's ears would twitch slightly, thus momentarily attracting the half-breed's attention. Once the crimson apparition finally reached the younger man's slumbering body, it proceeded to curiously sniff him. A wide smile curled the elder silver-haired man's lips as he halted his progress of constructing a fire in order to witness Nero's first bath compliments of a demon. Upon completion of memorizing the youth's various scents, Dante's demon persona began to meticulously claw at the ground mere inches above the slayer's head. The disturbance of the festering tile underneath the boy's cranium caused for his platinum lochs to ripple slightly from the displaced air.

The crimson beast cooed softly upon completion of its abusive motives toward the weakened tiles, the soft soil underneath providing a rather pleasant sensation. With its sharpened claws safely embedded within the luxurious soil underneath the youth's head, the demon cautiously nudged forward until it managed to slip its scaly arms underneath Nero's torso without waking him. Momentarily forfeiting the concept of starting a fire, Dante stood from his makeshift chair and slowly advanced toward his demonic half. Nudging the younger slayer's torso with its snout, the translucent beast adjusted Nero's body into a more preferable position in its arms. The elder slayer watched on in awe and content as his inner demon proceeded to lavish the youth's ivory skin with its pink tongue. Propping his scruffy chin atop the clenched fingers of his right hand, the man with sapphire eyes began to ponder what his inner demon was thinking at the moment. Possible questions that unwillingly began to pool in his mind were: _What does he taste like? How soft is his skin? ...Can I have a go?_

He shuddered audibly following the last question his mind displayed for him. The soft disturbance in the otherwise silent room only prompted for his inner demon to swivel its pointed ears toward his position, its hooded gaze remaining focused on the youth. What was his mind trying to inform him? Surely he could not be harboring such ludicrous emotions toward his young companion could he? For all he knew, the kid was as straight as a cue stick, and that his heart belonged to a young woman christened Kyrie. The realization of the situation caused for Dante's previous smile to fade as he stood from his position and headed back toward the collection of logs.

"Even if Nero were to swing both ways," the slayer mumbled to himself as he stared aimlessly at the congregation of firewood. "What are the chances that he'd actually fall for me?"

…

Vergil sighed heavily as he paged through a romance novel he borrowed from the library. He was about half way through the story, and from what he read; the condemned son of Sparda was quickly growing uninterested. Although, the classic damsel in distress chapters always managed to capture and restrain his interest long enough for a few hundred pages to fly by. Groaning from fatigue and general boredom, the half-breed gently closed the book before standing from the chair he was seated upon. On the table before him resided the vacant dishes that once contained the man's breakfast. Vergil's pale eyelids slipped closed over his crystalline-blue eyes momentarily as he elongated his arms over his head, weaving his fingers together and rotating his palms up afterward. While the momentary constriction and strain voluntarily placed upon his muscles provided a temporary relief of the effects of his long study session, Vergil predicted that he would experience tension in his limbs throughout the day.

Relinquishing the strain on his arms, the son of Sparda allowed for the toned, pale limbs to cascade haphazardly down by his sides before the solitary novel resting upon the tabletop momentarily absorbed his attention. Pursing his lips he extended his hand out over the item before wrapping the slim digits around the book's binding. Lifting the object off of the table, he sighed heavily before eloquently trudging up to his private quarters. A displeased scowl distorted his otherwise pristine mask as Vergil stepped into his elegant bedroom. Uncharacteristically tossing the novel onto his organized desk, the half-breed slipped out of his trademark azure overcoat. His previous scowl slowly began to dissipate from his chiseled features as he carefully hung his treasured article of clothing in his closet, closing the mahogany doors afterward.

Glancing around his room, a slight glint soon attracted his attention. Vergil furrowed his brow as he paced closer to his dresser. Placed haphazardly on its surface was a familiar treasure long since lost to him in the human world. His breath hitched in his throat as the memories contained within the shimmering surface of the immaculate blood red gem steadily flooded his subconscious. Without uttering a word, Vergil quickly thrust his hand out toward the object, enclosing the item of jewelry in his pale fingers. Within an instant, a ravaging incinerating sensation flared along the pads of his fingers as well as consuming his palm. Gritting his teeth from the discomfort, the condemned son of Sparda retained his iron like grip around the object, determined to reclaim what was rightfully his. Eventually, the searing pain dissipated almost as rapidly as it had arrived.

Vergil paused for a moment as he mentally analyzed the probability of actually reclaiming a family treasure he had long since forfeited to his younger brother during Mundus's revival in the human world. He shuddered physically at the thought of his long and torturous servitude under the demented deity. For once he was actually thankful that his younger brother had bested him, allowing for his tormented soul to finally seek long denied rest in a world of solitude. As a heavy sigh passed over his lips, Vergil slowly closed his eyes as his grip around the amulet increased steadily. For many long years since his second departure from the demon world, he dreaded the emergence of the memories that would forever haunt him in his sleep. Every breath was a punishment to the dark angel. Every act that Mundus had deemed inexcusable, the corrupted half-breed was brutally reprimanded. Whether the punishment was swift and merciless or slow and torturous, every calculated blow was an ungodly sentence that he alone would suffer through.

Eventually the half-breed with spiked silver lochs reopened his eyes, a chorus of his own screams coupled with Mundus's shouts of anger flooding his sense of hearing. The memory slowly began to dissipate however as the reclaimed moment in time only served to further enrage Vergil. Gritting his teeth, the condemned man constricted his fingers around the amulet in a vice like grip before hurling the object at a mirror stationed on the wall to his left. The swift transfer of momentum coupled with the force of Vergil's throw ultimately resulted in the Sparda family's heirloom inflicting a shattering blow to the pristine object. A massive deviation now adorned the center of the mirror, various cracks splintering off in opposing directions. The resulting spider web of creases eventually resulted in the mirror fragmenting and cascading onto the floor in shards. Among the glistening remains of the mirror resided the offending jewelry item.

"Why have you returned?" Vergil sternly questioned the object, receiving no answer whatsoever in return. "You should be plaguing my accursed brother with your indifference!"

Upon the return of the room's uncomforting silence, the irate man with crystalline blue eyes stalked over to his bed, flopping haphazardly down upon the object afterward. Sighing heavily into the crimson sheets, he lifted his head to stare aimlessly at the wall opposite of his position after a few minutes had passed. While the object of his rage had done nothing wrong, and thusly did not reserve the right to receive the abuse resulting from its owner's anger, Vergil continued to associate his dark past with it. Crossing his forearms before his body, the son of Sparda lazily propped his chin atop the tense appendages. Even in death, his past had discovered a way to haunt him in the afterlife. However, his mind was then assaulted by a plausible thought. What if the return of his amulet predicted the occurrence of his resurrection into the human world? Reverting his gaze to fall upon the glimmering item of jewelry, tidbits of his studies began to flood his subconscious. Perhaps there was a way for him to travel back into the human world without the use of an interconnecting wormhole after all. By using the amulet, he could finally exact his revenge.

His mischievous smirk however quickly faded upon the realization that Dante had succeeded in eradicating any and all enemies that he had deemed worthy of his irrefutable rage and thirst for revenge. And while he didn't particularly choose to accept the reality that Dante was his ally, he couldn't exactly expel his frustration on the man either. Whether he liked it or not, the younger twin was innocent of the crimes the elder had committed, and should thusly be excused from his torrent. Groaning low in his throat, Vergil pushed his body up onto his knees before directing his gaze heavenward. He refused the idea of specters obtaining the ability to communicate with the living upon passing into the afterlife, however in this most dire of times, he observed no other alternatives.

"Father," he called, his gaze never faltering from the ceiling. "I am in dire need of your assistance. Please, show me what I must do to return to the human world. I am certain that my amulet did not just appear out of coincidence. You must have something planned for me, therefore I humbly ask for your guidance."

Upon his request, he fell silent as he awaited any kind of response from his father. However, after a few minutes had passed with no reaction whatsoever, Vergil sighed heavily in defeat before collapsing back onto his bed, the mattress recoiling slightly following his descent. He then groaned softly before burying his face in his forearms. He should have guessed that speaking to the deceased was a waste of time, since anyone who would attempt was always left disappointed. Turning his head slightly, Vergil gazed at his fractured mirror one last time before drifting off into a light slumber.

…

Salidar frowned in displeasure as he continued to stare out at the obscure horizon line. A full twenty-four hours had expired since the young ambassador had contacted her lover and explained to him the details of the demon leader's challenge. He sighed heavily as he tore his gaze away from his target of interest before redirecting it to fall upon the slumbering form of Kyrie. Even though he despised humans, the young maiden retained a certain charm that was rare in the species. Granted he would never fall for one, unlike his highly despised brother. The mere thought of Salidar's long fallen sibling caused for a low growl to vibrate his vocal chords.

"That fool dug his own grave," he retorted as he turned back to stare at the remains of the castle town of Fortuna. "Did he honestly believe that he could live a normal life in the human world? Granted he did manage to fool the pathetic creatures for a few good years. He even managed to bear twin sons, I'd applaud him if I didn't loathe him."

A soft coo resounded to his right before the obsidian body of Mortar appeared, affectionately prodding his naked hand with its snout. Salidar's gaze softened slightly as he lightly petted the demon, earning a purr in response.

"Hello Mortar," he greeted before ceasing his affectionate gestures toward the creature. "Our prey is late. Do search for him would you?"

"_As you wish,_" the beast replied before leaping off of the current building they were occupying.

"If the boy is lost, then Mortar will gladly retrieve him," the man with obsidian lochs commented, a wicked grin curling his lips.

Following Mortar's departure to hunt down the youth, Sonar squawked in displeasure from its perch high on a radio spire. Gaining its master's attention, the demonic bird proceeded to beat its wing furiously, various loose feathers cascading elegantly before contacting the ground. A sly grin slowly spread onto Salidar's lips as he thrust out his left forearm, wordlessly summoning his winged pet. Tilting its head to the left, Sonar stretched its massive wings before eloquently lifting its body off of the spire. A light breeze filtered over the landscape as the man with amethyst eyes continued to observe his pet as it slowly descended from its perch. Finally reaching its intended destination, the obsidian bird began to beat its wings in quick increments, slowing its descent until it landed gracefully on the outstretched appendage of its master. Salidar's smile quickly faded as he gently stroked the bird's down feathers with his right index and middle fingers.

"What troubles you Sonar?" he questioned softly, he bird's eyes drifting closed from its master's gesture. "Are you jealous that I sent Mortar to retrieve our prey?"

Sonar clacked its beak together in response.

"I see," Salidar answered as he drew his weapon.

The long, glimmering blade of the katana he valued as his main weapon caused for Sonar to tilt its head before rapidly beating its wings in anticipation. The man with obsidian lochs lifted his treasured sword up to his eye level before thrusting the object down into the concrete below. The katana's blade pierced the otherwise impenetrable man-made material cleanly, imbedding about a good five inches before halting. Thrusting his arm up into the air, Salidar shooed Sonar away momentarily as he folded his hands together, closing his eyes afterward. The demonic bird hovered curiously overhead as its master proceeded to chant in an ancient dialect, reciting an incantation. A few verses into the spell, Salidar's imbedded blade began to glow a vibrant shade of violet, obsidian electricity crackling along its exposed shaft. A strong gale proceeded to assault the landscape, while a vivacious tremor ransacked the Order's headquarters.

Sonar proceeded to squawk noisily overhead as a thin beam of crimson shot forth from the katana's hilt, rocketing toward the heavens afterward. The rather noisy commotion erupting from the scene before her, Kyrie jolted awake only to gasp in horror as a swirling vortex emerged in the parted clouds. Upon completion of the incantation, Salidar summoned his winged pet back to his left arm. The commotion had also attracted the attention of Fuse, Blade and Razor, the three demons quickly joining their master in observing the newly formed portal in the heavens. Fuse growled low in its throat before unleashing a volley of harsh barks and yips at the portal, obvious excitement flaring in its electrified being.

"Sonar!" Salidar addressed, his voice barely audible over the roar of the portal. "I want you to return to the demon world. Recruit as many demons into a small army as you can. Take Fuse with you, and once you two are satisfied, summon me and I will reactivate the portal!"

The obsidian beast nodded in understanding as it stretched its wings before lifting off of its master's arm. The man with amethyst eyes then turned his attention toward Fuse, the beast's tail wagging with anticipation. A small smile curled Salidar's lips as he lifted his pet into his arms, ruffling its spiked fur in the process.

"Alright you two, be off now," he commented as he lifted Fuse up toward Sonar, the bird clamping its talons down on the scruff of the beast's neck.

The canine yipped before tenderly licking its master's fingers as its winged comrade ascended toward the gaping mouth of the portal. Razor and Edge joined their master as they along with Salidar watched the two disappear into the swirling vortex. In the moments that followed, the portal began to distort before slowly dissipating into the atmosphere. The man with obsidian lochs sighed heavily as he turned to notice the female staring at him with an expression of terror on her features. Razor and Edge both proceeded to hiss at her until their master placed each of his hands upon their slick heads.

"Easy," he cooed as he lightly patted their heads, earning a satisfied coo in response. "There's no need to be upset."

"Wha-what are you?" Kyrie questioned as she slowly began to retreat toward the door leading down into the building.

"Nothing you should concern yourself with my dear," Salidar answered as he snapped his fingers, thus causing Razor and Edge to charge toward her.

The young ambassador screamed as she quickly scrambled onto her feet and sprinted for the door. However, the serpentine beasts were exponentially more agile than her, thus allowing for the demons to corner her five steps away from her original starting point. Razor was the first to intercept her path, the beast roaring in blood lust. Kyrie gasped before bolting to her right only to meet Edge seconds later. Eventually, the twin beasts managed to corner her, snapping their menacing jaws at her every few instances the female would tear her gaze away from either of them.

"I hope you weren't harboring any delusions of escape my dear," the humanoid demon's voice commented as its owner drew closer.

"What kind of monster are you?" she demanded, tears trailing down her pale features.

"Do you really wish to know that badly?" he questioned stoically as he flexed his clawed left hand. "Fine, I shall grant you your wish of knowledge then."

Kyrie's pupils contracted to mere dots as she widened her eyes upon witnessing the man's transformation process. An inhuman growl erupted forth from Salidar's taut throat as his skin proceeded to morph into slick scales, a vibrant shade of fuchsia sparkling as an undertone. His hands and feet steadily elongated, the digits forming long, sharpened claws of obsidian. The vibrant crescendo of clothes splitting and fraying at the seems momentarily drowned within the man's growls as two massive wings burst forth from his shoulder blades, obsidian feathers glistening in the midday sun overhead. Upon nearing his transformation's completion, two massive horns jutted forth from his scalp, the bony extensions curling around his head. As his transformation neared its completion, a long whip-like tail emerged from the lower portion of his spine. Finally complete, Salidar gazed down upon the terrified female, his crimson hues following her every move. A satisfied smirk curled the demon's lips upon witnessing Kyrie faint, Razor and Edge curiously sniffing her body once it contacted the concrete beneath her.

"Foolish human," the newly transformed man commented as he turned to face the ruined town once more. "Razor, Edge!"

Upon hearing their names, the twin serpents quickly scampered off toward their master, rubbing their sleek bodies against his in the process.

"I want you to keep a vigilant eye out for the return of either Mortar, Sonar or Fuse," he instructed as he flexed his wings. "Alert me should any of them return. Also make sure you keep an eye on the female. I don't want her escaping!"

The bladed demons eagerly bobbed their heads in understanding as their master leapt off of the building, stretching his wings afterward. A strong gale eventually ensnared the demon in its grasp, granting him a strong updraft. Scanning over the city's ruins, Salidar located a particularly low deviation in the buildings. Therefore, he folded his wings together by his sides, nose diving into a desired crevice. Razor and Edge watched their master dive into the ruins of the city below before reverting their attention to the currently unconscious female.

"_What should we do about the female_?" Razor questioned its twin as it slinked closer to Kyrie.

"_Well, our master doesn't want anything to happen to her,_" Edge replied, snorting before shaking its head in a rapid succession. "_Yet anyway. Plus we have to keep a lookout for our brothers._"

"_But she looks so delicious Edge_," the obsidian twin commented, its pink, forked tongue lolling out of its hazardous jaws.

"_Nevertheless, we must remain vigilant_," the ivory beast responded, its golden tinted eyes scanning the landscape. "_You wouldn't want to upset master Salidar would you_?"

Razor growled low in its throat as it reverted its gaze to fall upon the female before snorting. It then turned its attention back to where its twin resided, joining after a few moments of contemplation. With its desired meal temporarily off limits, Edge partook in the activity of keeping watch over the ruined city, its heightened senses trained to detect any disturbance or activity out of the usual changes in wind direction or the occasional winged beast fluttering about.

…

"Ugh, come on," Dante growled as he frivolously continued to strike a rock along the crafted edge of Rebellion's barbed blade, a few sparks gracing his attempts every so often. "Fuck!"

The elder slayer cursed in frustration as he haphazardly tossed the abused rock and his cherished sword onto the ground. He had attempted to build a fire for close to three hours, and his patience was all but exhausted. During his various attempts, he cursed himself for not equipping Infrit in his arsenal before accepting the task of accompanying Nero in his return to Fortuna. The sun was now slowly beginning its descent toward the western horizon line, thus prompting for cooler temperatures and longer shadows. The thought of spending another night in the ruins of a long since forgotten roadside town caused for coarse, involuntary shivers to course down the hunter's spine. He was determined to vacate the area as soon as Nero awoke. As the younger man's name crossed his subconscious, Dante abandoned the accomplishment of a roaring fire to study up on the youth's condition.

Just a few hours prior, his inner demon had graciously agreed to clean Nero, thus alleviating the tempting scent of blood from the immediate area. However, what really seemed to puzzle the man with sapphire eyes was that even though the steadily decaying bodies of the demon army he single-handedly eradicated still occupied the vast expanse of the town's plaza, nary a demon had inspected the banquet. Momentarily distracting his mind, Dante began to ponder the notion of whether Nero would be hungry when he awoke. He would no doubt be parched, however, the elder hunter dreaded the idea of wandering the town in search of nourishment for the two of them while the younger slayer waited completely vulnerable and susceptible to attack during his absence. Either way, he was at a loss, with a plausible solution hidden just out of his comprehension.

Placing his hands on his hips, he began to gnaw at the soft inner lining of his right cheek, while mulling over possible solutions to the problem. One solution detailed him quickly scouring the town, searching high and low for any dictation of a convenience store. He quickly dismissed the idea, claiming it would demand too much precious time for Nero to remain vulnerable. A second option depicted that he wait until the youth would awake, then have him accompany the elder slayer on his quest for nourishment. However, eventually that plan came to the same conclusion. Sighing heavily in a momentary defeat, Dante turned and gazed down upon the solitary pile of wood still awaiting the eventual inferno to consume its placid surface. The hunter became so absorbed in his own thoughts and methods of problem solving, that he failed to notice the sky grow steadily darker.

A strong gale filtered over the landscape as an unpredicted storm proceeded to lazily drift overhead. Loose particles of dust, dirt and sand began to create mini twisters as the invisible wind manipulated its status of mobility. Decaying buildings groaned and creaked with every undulation of the meteorological event, the varied chorus of disturbances startling a few wandering demons from their temporary shelters. Eventually Dante awoke from his thought trance as he noted and absorbed the occurrences around him. Narrowing his eyes in comprehension, he quickly glanced out of one of the gaping holes in the wall closest to his position just as thunder crackled noisily in the rolling obsidian clouds overhead. His tense lips slowly descended into a slight frown as a refrain of demon howls and shrieks began to annunciate the various cadences of thunderclaps.

"Shit," Dante whispered as he glanced behind him, Rebellion's blade glistening in the waning light.

A thunderstorm was the absolute last thing the elder slayer wanted to occur. Not only were the surviving or wandering demons dashing from shelter to shelter to escape the storm, but the storm would also postpone the duo's attempt at evacuating the ruined town until it subsided. What really concerned the man with sapphire eyes was the inevitable rain that would eventually scour the landscape. If his assumptions were correct, the building, which the slayers occupied, was on a slight downgrade from the town's plaza. The torrential rain would undoubtedly dilute the pool of blood that had seeped from the bullet-riddled bodies of the demons he decimated earlier. The cracks and crevices engraved into the cobblestones would then channel through the various networks of miniscule canals, eventually leading directly to their shelter. The reinvigorated scent of blood, coupled with the intent of locating a temporary shelter would unwittingly leave the two at a higher percentage for an attack. Clenching his teeth, Dante retreated back into the shelter, retrieving Rebellion off of the ground afterward. Fixing his gaze on the solitary pile of wood, he plopped onto the ground, retrieving a stone upon crossing his legs.

The elder slayer sighed heavily as he angled Rebellion's barbed tip into the foundation of the log pile. He then inclined the blade into a 49-degree angle from the floor, tilting the blade down slightly to his left afterward. He paused for a few moments to line up his eyesight with the axis of the blade in comparison to the firewood. Squinting his eyes, he doubled-checked his mental measurements before finally retrieving his chosen rock. With the natural element clutched firmly in his gloved right hand, Dante inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling, his anticipation prompting the momentary hesitation. Pursing his lips together into a thin line, he began to slide the rock along the blade's sharpened edge, preparing his eye and hand for the ultimatum. He then narrowed his eyes on the fourth upward stroke, grunting as he struck the rock along his blade. A radiant shower of sparks erupted from the forced contact, sprinkling the logs afterward. To the hunter's initial displeasure, the sparks flickered before slowly extinguishing. Furrowing his brow, he sighed in defeat, the idea of a comforting fire beyond his current ability.

However, as he continued to stare downtrodden at the stack of firewood, he soon noticed a faint trail of smoke curling elegantly from the base of his blade's barbed edge. Pulling Rebellion from the base of the logs, Dante observed the deviation intently, visually searching for the origin of the smoke. He quickly pushed his weight forward, shifting onto his hands and knees as he continued to stare at the firewood, the billowing smoke steadily growing stronger. A small smile splayed across his lips as he finally discovered the smoldering kindling beneath one of the larger logs. Adjusting the positions of the wood, he gently proceeded to blow on the glimmering flame, enticing the embers to grow. By now, a steady downpour had begun to fall, the large raindrops splattering noisily on the decaying buildings as well as the fractured cobblestone paths. Eventually, the man with sapphire eyes managed to stoke the glistening embers into a roaring fire, the bright golden and crimson inferno greedily consuming the logs placed in the small ring of rocks. Dante sighed in content as the dancing flames illuminated his body, providing warmth as well as protection from the wandering demons.

His gaze then reverted over to his slumbering comrade, the youth currently curled into a light ball. Furrowing his brow in concern, the elder slayer quickly glanced around at the materials still assessable to him. However, the objects he contemplated on using as a makeshift blanket for the younger hunter were either drenched from the seeping rainwater, were practically saturated with blood, or torn to shreds. Sighing heavily at a loss, Dante placed his hands on his hips, his gaze shifting back and forth from Nero to the flickering fire. Even though the young man should be conscious in a few hours, he didn't want to chance the risk of moving him for fear of reopening a few tender contusions. Setting his lips in a slight frown, he glanced down at his feet, his current footwear smeared with ashes, dirt and dried blood. His sapphire gaze then intercepted a fluttering lapel of his overcoat as a rather strong breeze filtered in through a gaping crevice in the wall adjacent to his position.

A soft smile curled the hunter's lips as he shrugged out of his crimson and obsidian overcoat. Even though the current temperature of the room's atmosphere was slightly cooler than the elder man would have enjoyed, he still possessed the option of retaining a comfortable temperature around the rippling fire. Nero on the other hand, possessed little in the form of protective and wearable clothing, and was far from the warmth radius exuded by the fire. Folding his only remaining overcoat over his left arm, he habitually smoothed out the extra wrinkles in his shirt before softly treading closer to his chilled comrade. Dante's slight smile faded as he gazed down upon the remains of his first overcoat. Out of every overcoat he's collected, the one he wore when facing off against his twin in, around and above the devilish tower, the Temen-Ni-Gru, seemed to suffer the most costly damages. His sapphire gaze continued to drift lazily along the battlefield of tears, burns and stains, mentally calculating the total expense for repairing such a catastrophe.

The elder slayer sighed passively as he lifted his overcoat off of his left forearm. Splaying his hands across the shoulder line of the slightly undersized object, he cracked the object in the air a few times to alleviate any newly formed wrinkles. He then slowly descended onto his right knee, the tail end of his overcoat dragging along the ground. A soft smile curled Dante's lips once again as he carefully covered Nero's shivering form, the collar of the crimson article of clothing resting idly beneath the boy's chin. Straightening his back, the experienced hunter leaned his left forearm on top of his bent left leg, his hooded gaze focusing on the youth's serenely slumbering features. Following the expiration of five minutes, Dante began to ponder how the boy could manage to locate and involve himself in so many various situations where his life hung in the balance. The first instance of a life threatening involvement would be when he was poisoned, thus creating the ghastly transformation of his right arm. A second instance was when they first became acquainted and Nero acquired his devil trigger.

A loud crack sounded from the blazing inferno as a half-consumed log of wood released a trapped bubble of hydrogen. Tearing his gaze away from the youth, the elder man stared intently at the dancing flames before pushing himself onto his feet, a groan of announced pain vibrating his vocal chords. Wandering over to the fire, his stomach soon reminded him that it was empty and desired a refuel. Dante ground his teeth together before glancing down upon the glimmering blade of his cherished heirloom. A resilient flash of lightning streaked across the sky overhead before a low peal of thunder rattled the building's foundation. In the immediate vicinity, the only edible food to the hunter's knowledge was the mound of semi-fresh demon meat still piled out by the town's disabled fountain. Despite its bitter taste, demon flesh was actually quite nutritious and hearty. A fully matured male could sustain himself on a few pounds of demon meat for close to three weeks tops. However, not all demon flesh is edible by human beings. Many of the canine and bird species were poisonous, their blood being a cocktail of caustic substances. Retrieving Rebellion off of the ground, he carefully slid his right thumb over the sharpened edges of the barbed blade. The rock caused nary a scratch, which greatly relieved the elder hunter. The last thing he would want to occur was his blade suffering damage while producing a staple in survival.

Gripping his beloved sword in his right hand, Dante paced closer to the main passageway of the dilapidated building. The rain obscured his vision of the surrounding collection of edifices thus prompting for an uneasy sigh to pass over his lips. Demons were undoubtedly scampering about in the rain, and the fact that a roaring fire was present in one of the buildings, the elder feared it would be too inviting. However, with the current turn of events, he would have to barter a risk. The fountain was only a few meters in distance from the makeshift shelter, and he was only focused on gathering two intact carcasses from the pile. Inhaling deeply, he turned his attention back to Nero, the boy still enraptured by his dream world. Dante exhaled sharply before slowly nodding and turning to fully face the gaping chasm. If he timed his departure well, he should be able to retrieve what he needed and return before a minute would expire. Flicking his wrist, the experienced slayer quickly switched the position of Rebellion's pleated handle so the blade was angled behind its master's body.

"Don't worry Nero," he whispered as his eyes searched the mist-dominated landscape. "I'll only be gone for a few seconds."

Upon the discovery of the massive pile of demon bodies, Dante crouched into a low squat, his right foot slightly trailing. With his sword clenched tightly in his hand, he inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly, his heart rate thundering in his ears. It was now or never, and with the stakes as high as the stars themselves, the experienced slayer could not afford failure. Eventually, a spider web of lightning streaked across the sky. Tensing his muscles for the proverbial gun, Dante recited a cadence of escalating numerals before a peal of thunder vibrated the landscape. With the agility of a world-class sprinter, the man with sapphire eyes bolted for the carcass pile, a pack of nearby demons screeching loudly before giving chase. The rain collided mercilessly with the hunter's exposed skin, the miniscule droplets of rain comparing more so to prods from a blunt needle. Gritting his teeth, Dante pushed forward, his muscles flexing and rippling with each impact with the uneven path. With the massive pile mere feet before him, a confident smirk splayed across his lips. However, just as he breeched the plaza's threshold, a two-feline demons landed before him, intercepting his journey forward. Quickly shifting his weight back, the elder slayer thrust his blade into the fractured street beneath his feet, managing to postpone his progress just as two more feral demons leapt in to block his exit. Panting from his sprint, Dante glared menacingly into the opposing demons' eyes.

"Look, all I want is a small fraction of that pile there," the man with ivory lochs commented as the pack of feline beasts began to slowly circle him. "Nothing more…you can have the rest."

"_No_," one of the larger beasts answered. "_This is our food. Leave now, or you shall become a part of it._"

"Hey pal, I ain't got time for this," Dante remarked, as he angled Rebellion's blade up along his back, the barbed edge ascending just over his left shoulder. "Now either you give me two of those demons in that pile, or I'll make you into the next season's hottest fashion."

Baring their sharpened teeth, the beasts attacked. A confident smirk soon curled the hunter's lips as he leapt into the air while twisting his body, utilizing Rebellion's long blade as a propeller to gain a higher altitude. As a result of his hasty retreat, the four feline demons collided, their writhing bodies collapsing back onto the earth in a jumbled pile of limbs. Landing gracefully a few feet away, Dante proceeded to laugh at how unrefined the beasts' coordination was. Snarling with a roiling fury, the first beast to succeed onto its four paws surged after its intended prey. With his cocky smirk still proudly plastered onto his features, the man with sapphire eyes quickly plunged the barbed edge of his sword into a prominent fracture in the street's cobblestone surface. Utilizing the momentum generated from the move, Dante quickly thrust his right leg out, connecting a sharp blow to the beast's snout. The feral demon whined in pain as its body rocketed into the crumbling side of a nearby building.

Thunder crackled overhead as the assaulted building teetered to its right before collapsing, ultimately burying the demon under three stories worth of concrete, brick, copper and insulin. The resulting plume of dust and dirt splayed over the battlefield, causing for the combatants to lose track of one another. Slowly, Dante's confident smirk dissipated as he clutched Rebellion's handle tightly with both hands. The pounding rain and crackling thunder served merely as a distraction, drowning out the footfalls of the feline demons almost entirely. Observing that his eyesight has otherwise proven useless in the continuation of the battle, the experienced slayer slowly exhaled as he closed his eyes, allowing for his sense of hearing to seize command. The beasts growled low in their throats as they stealthily stalked ever closer to their temporarily blinded prey. With hazardous fangs dripping hungrily with saliva, the first demon pounced, its clawed forepaws extended and anxious to slice into its adversary's flesh.

"Heh," Dante sighed as he quickly retreated a step, the feral demon's claws narrowly missing his clothed chest. "Game…"

The infamous slayer's trademark smirk curled his lips once more as he audibly followed the beast's movements, twirling his sword in his right hand for a full revolution before thrusting it forward. A ravenous screech echoes across the landscape, piercing through the thick thrones of dirt, dust and sand. The two remaining demons pause as the death cry of their former comrade further serves to enrage the beasts. Relying heavily on their sensitive eyesight, the two feline demons surge toward the blind swordsman. Baring sharpened claws and fangs; the two feral beasts leap toward Dante, their intentions deadly. Audibly absorbing the information his eyes failed to provide for the man with ivory hair, he accurately pinpointed the demons' locations. Exhaling quickly, he crouched into a low squat before launching his body backward. The feline demons snorted in confusion as Dante arched his back, landing on his hands afterward. Grunting slightly from the hasty transfer of his weight, he redirected the direction of his feet, completing the semi-circle before pushing off of the ground. A soft chuckle vibrated his vocal chords as he landed onto his feet.

"Set…" he commented before extending his right arm, Rebellion's blade acting as a deadly addition to the appendage.

Briefly retreating a step with his left foot, the experienced slayer quickly swung the blade forward, generating the necessary momentum. Focusing his weight onto the balls of his right foot, Dante eloquently twisted his body in a complete 360-degree revolution before savagely executing an upward slice. The hunter's deadly sword dance succeeded in cleanly decapitating one of the feline demons, it's twitching body collapsing onto the ground in the moments that followed. Perching his weight onto his left foot, Dante trained his keen eyes on the remaining demon as the suffocating fog slowly began to dissipate. Frightened for its own life following the demises of its comrades, the remaining feline demon turned tail and fled. However, the slayer with sapphire eyes quickly sprinted after it. As he surged after the fleeing demon, Dante carefully counted his steps, timing his final spectacle to a pinpoint.

Lightning flashed overhead as the hunter launched his body skyward following a boost from the debris of the freshly leveled building the first beast flew into. Soaring high into the air, Dante angled his decent over the projected path the feral beast was predicted to follow. Raising Rebellion high over his head, the elder slayer grit his teeth before hurling the crafted blade down toward the fractured cobblestone. Luck seemed to favor the man with ivory lochs as his projectile hit its mark, the barbed blade striking the fleeing beast on top of its cranium. The method of slaying was quick and decisive, as the demon did not receive the chance to even whimper as Rebellion sliced cleanly through its head, permanently eradicating any functionality whatsoever. With a satisfied smirk curling the corners of his lips, Dante gracefully landed to the deceased feline's left, propping his left hand on top of his sword's spiked handle.

"Match," he finished as the twitching body of the last of the feline beasts collapsed onto the ground.

Dante sighed heavily as he wrapped the slightly quivering fingers of his left hand around his sword's pleated handle, twisting the weapon a quarter turn clockwise before wrenching its barbed blade free of the cobblestone pathway and the demon's head. A light breeze then filtered over the soggy landscape, prompting for an involuntary shiver to course through the slayer's body. Glancing skyward, he observed the slowly passing clouds of slate and ivory hues. The once violent droplets of water splashed upon the ground and the slayer's inclined features. Even though the heavenly tears were frigid and numerous, they produced a calming sensation as the cadence of splattering droplets orchestrated an ancient lullaby. Dante closed his eyes as he reveled in the tranquility of the moment. Such pauses in daily life similar to the present were a rarity for the man with sapphire eyes. Not even his customary ten hours of daily sleep could not compare to how placid and relaxed the rain allowed to him feel. There was really only one other occurrence in his life that he discovered true tranquility, and that was when he was embracing Nero.

As the notion of the younger slayer flitted across his memory bank, Dante gasped as he realized he had practically abandoned the youth for his moment to embellish the gentility of the rain. Tightening his grip around Rebellion's pleated handle, he quickly plucked the recently slaughtered feline demon off of the cobblestone ground. Tossing the beast haphazardly over his left shoulder, he jogged over to the remains of the second feral beast he disposed of. He quickly wrapped his gloved right hand around the stiff beast's left hind leg before turning and sprinting back toward his and Nero's shared refuge. To his relief, Nero was still soundly slumbering under the miniscule protection of his crimson overcoat, which also provided him with warmth from the rather frigid temperature that permeated throughout the room. A warm smile spread onto the elder slayer's lips before he thrust Rebellion into the dirt before the crackling fire. Relaxing his shoulders, he allowed for the bleeding carcasses to tumble off, the cadavers colliding sharply with the remains of the concrete floor.

Even though the small thud that resulted from the collision of the feline beasts with the floor was insignificant, the exchange resulted in a soft groan emanating from the direction of Nero's current position. As Dante wrapped the fingers of his right hand around his sword's handle, his sapphire irises focused on butchering the remnants of nourishment placed before him, his ears twitched slightly as soft rustling sounds resonated in a far corner of the room. Lifting his gaze to fall upon the origin of the commotion, the experienced slayer eventually noted Nero's conscious movements. A wide smile curled the corners of his lips as he momentarily abandoned the task of preparing dinner in favor of investigating the youth's condition. Another soft moan vibrated Nero's vocal chords as he furrowed his brow, slowly opening his eyes afterward. The first glimpse from the grave yielded nothing but a blurry environment. Reclosing his eyes, he slowly lifted his left hand, grunting at the notion of how daunting the simple task actually was. However, he managed to lift the extremity eventually, lightly rubbing his eyelids afterward. As the younger slayer focused on refocusing his vision, his ears twitched slightly as his sense of hearing intercepted the crescendo of thick leather boots impacting the ground in even cadences. Allowing for his left hand to cascade down onto the tender flesh of his abdomen, Nero reopened his eyes only to intercept the sapphire gaze of his comrade moments later.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" the elder hunter questioned softly as he kneeled before his weakened comrade.

"Dante?" the man with crystalline blue eyes replied, furrowing his brow in confusion afterward. "What are you doing here? Wh-where is here anyway?"

Dante paused momentarily as the young man's first questions repeated a few times over in his subconscious. While he was ecstatic that the kid was all right and still recalled who he was, the fact that he didn't recollect where he was troubled him slightly. He cleared his throat as he quickly shook his head, alleviating the dubious questions and contemplations for the moment. Propping his right forearm over his bowed right leg, the elder man sighed lightly before briefly licking his rather dry lips.

"Well, to tell you the truth kid," he began, as he glanced down at his patiently waiting comrade. "I really don't know. However, I do know that we're somewhere in between Capulet and Fortuna."

"Oh," Nero remarked as he averted his gaze to stare upon the crumbling ceiling.

"So, you never answered my question kid," Dante reprimanded as he curled his left hand into a loose fist, propping it upon his hip, displaying a gesture of displeasure.

"Well, if you really want to know," the younger slayer began, groaning in a strained voice as he slowly advanced into a seated position. "I feel like shit. There's not a millimeter of skin on me that doesn't hurt right now."

The experienced slayer sighed in pity as his gaze continued to observe his comrade study the remains of the clothes he was previously wearing. The youth furrowed his brow as he twisted his arms, observing the exact extent of the damage the demons managed to inflict upon their combined assault on his being. Dante's eyelids drooped over his eyes slightly as he retreated into his subconscious. Nero would undoubtedly recover before night fell, however with the congregation of demons amassing in the destined castle town, the elder slayer thought it best to at least spend one night to recover fully. Glancing back up at the young man, Dante began to closely study his face. He recorded every angling line of the boy's jaw as well as the softer curves of his lips, nose and eyes. Despite the youth's aggressive attitude, he possessed soft features. The experienced hunter then lifted his gaze to focus on Nero's silver lochs. Even though both slayers possessed the rare trait, Dante admired how unique the youth's hair appeared. His seemed more vibrant and feathery, and when the luminous sun managed to splay across his head, a silver halo would usually develop around the crown of his cranium. Dante smiled softly as his gaze drifted back to Nero's momentarily distracted irises. Even though crystalline blue was a very piercing color for eyes, the youth's always seemed to glow with vibrancy. Eventually, Nero lifted his gaze toward his elder comrade, a question plaguing his mind. However, his query stalled on his tongue as he intercepted Dante's gaze.

Time seemed to slow to a stand still as the slayers continued to gaze into each other's eyes, identical thoughts racing through their subconscious. The youth soon became the first of the two to move as he tilted his head slightly to his right. What remained of the storm outside was now a softly decaying rainstorm, the soft trickling of water droplets creating a soothing melody. As minutes slowly began to expire, Nero became restless, his muscles quivering every few seconds. As a result, his gaze then began to wander, his irises darting from the elder's steadfast eyes to the ground, then the ceiling before finishing a large revolution back to Dante's sapphire irises. Even though the temperature in the room remained constant, the young slayer's quivering became more violent, eventually causing his whole body to shake. As the apparent spell on the elder man fractured, he lowered his body onto his knees before leaning forward, halting his progress toward the other slayer with only a few feet separating them. Nero's enlarged irises reconnected with Dante's gaze following the elder's sudden shift in position. The experienced hunter's proximity to the younger man's position caused for him to lean back further, placing unnecessary strain on his elbow joints and his weakened muscles.

"Dante," Nero addressed firmly as a light tint of pink began to color his cheeks. "What are you doing?"

The addressed slayer spoke naught a word, but slowly followed his younger comrade. Turning his face down toward the floor, Nero attempted to pull himself further away from his comrade's advance. However as he increased the pressure on his elbows, they buckled, causing the youth's torso to fall back onto the floor. Dante paused momentarily as the younger slayer cursed from the fresh spike of pain, his eyes tightly clenched. Nero grit his teeth as he proceeded to push himself up into a seated position once more, the task however proving to be too difficult for his malnourished muscles. The sheer complexity of the commonly simple task caused for tears to trail down the youth's contorted features. The elder slayer furrowed his brow in pity before carefully snaking his left arm under his comrade's legs, his right arm gently looping around Nero's abused and spasming lat muscles. With a short, yet strained grunt, Dante lifted the man with crystalline-blue eyes into his arms before shifting his weight back. He then crossed his legs as he ensconced back onto the ground, gingerly transferring his injured comrade from the ground onto his lap. Nero furrowed his brow as he placed his left hand onto the experienced slayer's chest, applying what little strength he could muster as a counter measure to the other's actions. Dante's expression remained placid as he lowered Nero into the gap between his crossed legs and his body. As he withdrew his left arm from under the youth's legs, the compassionate slayer wrapped the appendage carefully around his comrade's torso. The young man with silver lochs flinched slightly from the exchange as his body was drawn closer to the elder's. Nero sighed in frustration as he was once again forced to become subject to Dante's bouts of unexplained compassion.

He could understand that the elder was only trying to assist him, however the method in which he expressed his aid eventually began to worry the youth. Nero always viewed Dante as the macho straight guy who was comparable to a snake charmer, that is if women were the unruly serpents that danced to his melody. Sure he was quite attractive, but the fact that the elder was so straightforward with him concerned Nero. However, at the moment, Dante's embrace was quite welcoming despite the awkward progression into the gesture. As his eyelids slowly slid down over his crystalline irises, Nero placed his softly glowing demonic hand against the experienced slayer's chest. He then laid his head against his comrade's right shoulder, his forehead unintentionally resting against Dante's neck. A soft smile curled the elder's lips as he in-turn rested his right cheek against the youth's forehead, his right hand ascending from Nero's back to gently thread through his hair. As the elder slayer continued to comb his fingers slowly through his hair, the younger hunter sighed before closing his eyes.

"Feel better?" Dante questioned softly.

Nero groaned as a response before opening his eyes half-way, his gaze focused on their intertwined silhouettes flickering with the undulating illumination provided by the flickering inferno stationed a few feet behind them. Meanwhile on top of the building the two slayers currently resided in, the sleek obsidian form of Mortar gazed down upon the two through a gaping crevice. It cooed softly before tilting its head to the left, its bony tail waging slowly from left to right. Snorting slightly, it quickly leapt onto an adjacent building before shaking its body in rapid successions, flinging the natural coat of water off of its glistening scales. Mortar growled slightly before proceeding to lavish its clawed fingers with its long pink tongue.

"Mortar report," the voice of the beast's master commanded.

"_I have located the two slayers_," Mortar reported as it plopped down upon the decaying floor of the room it momentarily retreated to in order to escape the rain. "_The young one seems quite weak. I'm not even sure he would otherwise succeed in returning to Fortuna._"

"Huh, such a shame," Salidar commented, his voice a sarcastic whisper. "Oh well, no matter, kill him."

"_I'm not so sure that would be a decent strategy my master,_" the obsidian creature retorted. "_The young one seems to be accompanied by another man. He has the same silver lochs as the youth and appears quite protective of him. I doubt I would even obtain the opportunity to touch the youth with that one around_."

"Hmm, interesting," the beast's owner hummed. "Well, I want you to keep a close study on those two, but make sure they don't see you understand?"

"_Completely my liege,_" Mortar answered before a massive lightning bolt flourished across the overcast sky. "_I'll keep a close watch on them_."


End file.
